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JAMES  ANTHONY  FROUDE 


Julius    Caesar 

By 

James  Anthony  Froude 

With  a  Critical  and  Biographical  Introduction 
by  Burke  A.  Hinsdale 

Illustrated 


"  Pardon,  gentles  all, 
The  flat  unraised  spirit  that  hath  dared 
On  this  unworthy  scaffold  to  bring  forth 
So  great  an  object." 

Shakespeare,  Henry  V 


New  York 
D.  Appleton  and  Company 


1904 


Copyright,  1899, 
By  D.  APPLETON   AND  COMPANY. 


FROUDFS   *'CiESAR" 


>  ♦  •  « 


MR.  FROUDE  left  his  readers  in  no  uncertain  frame 
of  mind  as  to  his  views  of  history  and  historical 
composition.  Besides  numerous  casual  intimations 
of  them,  he  elaborated  them  somewhat  fully  in  a  lecture 
on  "  The  Science  of  History,"  delivered  at  the  Royal  In- 
stitution in  1864.^  A  rapid  summary  of  his  leading  ideas 
will  form  a  fitting  prelude  to  some  remarks  upon  his  his- 
torical work  in  general,  and  especially  his  "  Caesar." 

There  is  an  incongruity,  he  tells  us,  in  the  very  con- 
nection of  such  words  as  "  science  "  and  "  history,"  much 
like  the  incongruity  of  attributing  colour  to  sound  or  lati- 
tude and  longitude  to  the  rule  of  three.  This  is  due  to 
the  absence  from  human  affairs  of  the  one  element  that  is 
essential  to  the  conception  of  science — or,  if  not  its  ab- 
sence, the  impossibility  of  finding  it.  A  science  of  history 
implies  that  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect  holds  in  human 
affairs  as  completely  as  in  Nature;  but  wherever  natural 
causes  are  liable  to  be  set  aside  and  neutralized  by  voli- 
tion, there  "  science  "  is  a  word  out  of  place.  In  history 
phenomena  do  not  repeat  themselves  as  they  do  in  Nature, 
so  that  men  can  not  previse  in  the  one  field  as  they  do  in 
the  other;  furthermore,  if  we  content  ourselves  with  the 
past,  there  are  still  insuperable  difficulties.  First,  the  facts 
come  to  us  through  the  minds  of  fallible  men  charged  with 
human  passions  and  prejudices,  and  we  can  not  be  sure 

*  "  Short  Studies  on  Great  Su    '    ,is,"  vol.  i. 
iii 

38^549 


iv  FROUDE'S   "C^SAR" 

that  we  have  the  facts;  or,  if  we  concede  the  facts,  the 
crux  of  combination  and  interpretation  still  remains.  Let 
your  theory  of  history  be  what  it  will,  you  will  find  no  diffi- 
culty in  providing  facts  to  prove  it.  History  is  like  a  child's 
box  of  letters,  with  which  he  spells  out  what  he  pleases. 
If  there  be  such  a  thing  as  a  science  of  history,  it  must  rest, 
like  political  economy  as  expounded  by  Adam  Smith,  on 
self-interest;  but  this  is  at  variance  with  the  facts,  since 
the  fundamental  difference  between  a  high  order  of  man 
and  a  low  order  of  man  is  self-forgetfulness  and  disregard 
of  personal  advantage,  because  some  other  line  of  conduct 
is  seen  to  be  more  right.  Thus  there  is  that  in  man — and 
the  more  the  more  highly  he  is  developed — that  lies  out- 
side of  the  chain  of  mechanical  causation.  Nor  is  escape 
from  the  contradictory  and  changing  character  of  the  facts 
of  individual  life  to  be  found  in  Mr.  Buckle's  doctrine  of 
averages,  for  the  average  of  one  generation  is  not  the 
average  of  the  next  one. 

What,  then,  is  the  use  of  history,  and  what  are  its 
lessons?  If  it  is  largely  uncertain  of  the  past,  and  wholly 
uncertain  of  the  future,  why  waste  time  over  so  barren 
a  study?  One  lesson,  and  only  one,  history  teaches  with 
distinctness;  this  lesson  is,  that  the  world  is  built  on  moral 
foundations;  that,  in  the  long  run,  it  is  well  with  the  good 
and  ill  with  the  wicked.  But  this  is  no  science;  it  is  noth- 
ing but  the  old  doctrine  long  ago  taught  by  the  Hebrew 
prophets.  Another  lesson,  is,  that  we  should  draw  no 
horoscopes,  that  we  should  expect  little,  for  what  we  ex- 
pect will  not  come  to  pass.  The  revolutions  and  reforma- 
tions into  which  patriots  and  saints  have  thrown  themselves 
have  not  borne  the  fruit  they  looked  for.  Millenniums  are 
still  far  away  in  the  future.  Luther  would  have  had  less 
heart  to  confront  the  Diet  of  Worms  if  he  had  foreseen 
the  Thirty  Years'  War,  and  Washington  might  not  have 
drawn  his  sword  if  he  could  have  foreseen  the  year  1861. 


/f 


FROUDE'S   "C^SAR*'  V 

When  It  is  objected  that  this  is  a  meagre  outcome,  and 
it  is  demanded  of  him  whether  history  can  teach  us  no 
more  than  this,  Mr.  Froude  takes  positive  ground  or  pro- 
pounds his  affirmative  view.  Shakespeare  excels  in  this — 
that  he  is  true  to  Nature;  his  dramas  teach  as  Hfe  teaches, 
neither  more  nor  less.  He  builds,  like  Nature,  on  right 
and  wrong,  but  he  does  not  try  to  make  Nature  more 
systematic  than  she  is;  he  forces  upon  her  no  didactic  pur- 
pose, composes  no  moral  tales  which  edify  the  conscience 
but  mislead  the  intellect;  he  has  no  science  or  theory  of 
what  he  means.  Shakespeare  is  the  type  of  what  the  his- 
torian should  be;  human  life  is  a  drama,  and  its  story 
should  be  dramatic.  It  was  the  same  with  Homer;  for 
the  hard  purposes  of  history  the  "  Iliad  "  and  the  "  Odys- 
sey "  are  the  most  effective  books  that  ever  were  written. 
Poetry  must  not  theorize,  and  history  much  less,  since  the 
historian's  obligation  to  be  true  to  fact  is  even  greater 
than  the  poet's.  If  the  drama  is  grandest  when  the  action 
is  least  explicable  by  laws,  because  then  it  most  resembles 
life,  then  history  is  grandest  also  under  the  same  condi- 
tions. History  can  not,  indeed,  be  written  in  the  com- 
plete form  of  the  drama,  but  the  periods  of  greatest  interest 
to  mankind  may  be  so  written  that  the  actors  shall  reveal 
their  character  in  their  own  words.  There  are  all  the  ele- 
ments of  the  highest  order  of  drama,  when  the  huge  forces 
of  the  times  are  as  the  Grecian  destiny  and  the  power  of 
the  man  is  seen  either  stemming  the  stream  till  it  over- 
whelms him  or  ruling  while  he  seems  to  yield  to  it.  You 
should  no  more  ask  for  a  theory  of  this  or  that  period  of 
history  than  you  should  ask  for  a  theory  of  "  Macbeth  " 
or  "  Hamlet." 

Such  is  Mr.  Froude's  dramatic  view  of  history,  which 
so  inspired  him  that  he  set  it  forth  with  something  of  dra- 
matic force  and  efifect.  Theory  we  must  not  call  it,  because 
he  forbids  us.     For  many  years  he  devoted  himself  labori- 


vi  FROUDE'S  "CyESAR" 

ously  to  studying  and  writing  history,  and  no  one  can  at 
all  understand  why  he  did  so  who  does  not  study  his  gen- 
eral view  of  the  subject  in  connection  with  his  own  mental 
character  and  literary  career.  In  the  same  way  also  we 
are  to  come  at  an  understanding  of  the  historical  work 
that  he  did. 

Despite  the  critics  who  charged  him  while  living  with 
indifference  to  truth,  we  may  concede  to  Mr.  Froude  a 
large  interest  in  the  voice  that,  as  he  said,  is  forever  sound- 
ing across  the  centuries  the  laws  of  right  and  wrong.  Still, 
morality  was  not  the  main  attraction  that  history  had  for 
his  mind;  he  does  not  come  before  us  as  a  preacher  of 
righteousness.  Neither  was  it  his  fundamental  purpose 
to  teach  men  to  draw  no  horoscopes  and  to  accept  things 
as  they  come.  His  interest  in  history  lay  rather  in  its 
dramatic  element,  or,  speaking  more  broadly,  in  the  mate- 
rials it  furnished  that  were  capable  of  literary  treatment. 
We  may  concede  to  him  historical  sense,  but  he  was  drawn 
to  his  great  pursuit  by  his  literary  sense.  And  not  only 
so,  this  sense  was  a  dominating  factor  in  all  the  historical 
work  that  he  did.  His  historical  writings  all  moved  in 
what  the  late  Professor  John  Robert  Seeley  once  signifi- 
cantly called  "  the  old  literary  groove." 

We  have  had  two  schools  of  believers  in  a  science  of 
history.  The  first  school  found  absolute  order,  law,  or 
cause  and  effect,  prevailing  in  the  affairs  of  men,  and  held 
that  the  historian's  fundamental  purpose  is  to  discover 
this  order  or  law.  Such  was  the  general  conception;  back 
of  it  was  much  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  ultimate 
nature  of  historical  causation,  although  the  stronger  drift 
of  opinion  was  toward  minimizing  the  individual  will  and 
conscience  and  toward  aggrandizing  collective  man,  or 
the  social  whole,  and  so  assimilating  history  to  the  natural 
sciences.  Disciple  of  Carlyle  that  he  was,  Froude  could 
not  but  throw  himself  with  all  his  force  against  such  a 


FROUDE'S   "C^SAR"  vii 

conception  of  history  as  this,  as  we  have  seen  that  he  did 
do  in  his  lecture  dehvered  at  the  Royal  Institution.  If 
he  did  not  cover  this  view  with  the  scorn  and  loathing  that 
Carlyle  cast  over  it,  it  was  only  because  he  lacked  his  mas- 
ter's power  of  picturesque  characterization.  It  will  hardly 
be  maintained  that  the  science  of  history  in  this  sense 
has  held  its  ground  during  the  past  quarter  of  a  century. 
Buckle's  "  History  of  Civilization  in  England,"  which  pro- 
duced such  an  immense  sensation,  is  now  a  little-read  book. 
The  new  school  finds  its  science — or  at  least  lays  its 
emphasis — in  another  quarter.  Its  adherents  have  much 
less  to  say  of  the  laws  that  act  beneath  the  surface  of  affairs 
or  the  forces  that  move  men  to  action;  they  do  not,  in 
fact,  necessarily  believe  in  the  existence  of  such  laws  at 
all,  although  no  doubt  most  of  them  do  so  believe;  all 
that  their  creed  requires  them  to  hold  is  this:  Here  are 
phenomena  in  the  field  of  what  men  call  history;  no  mat- 
ter how  they  were  produced,  and  without  reference  to 
theories  of  connection,  our  business  as  historians  is  to  find 
out  the  facts  or  to  lay  bare  the  truth.  The  fundamental 
difference  between  the  two  schools  is  this:  The  old  school 
placed  the  science  in  historical  action  itself,  the  same  as 
in  Nature;  the  new  school  finds  it  in  method  and  in  the 
temper  of  mind  of  the  investigator  and  writer.  Or,  to  state 
the  distinction  in  another  form,  the  one  school  undertook 
to  lay  down  the  laws  of  human  life;  the  other  undertakes 
only  to  lay  down  the  laws  of  historical  investigation  and 
narration.  There  is,  to  be  sure,  no  necessary  conflict  be- 
tween the  two.  The  old  school  were  quite  ready  to  accept 
the  main  ideas  of  the  new  one,  and  they  no  doubt  pre- 
pared the  way  for  those  ideas;  nor  is  there  any  conclusive 
reason  why  the  new  school  should  not  take  up  the  doc- 
trines of  the  old  one.  But  it  will  hardly  be  denied  that,  gen- 
erally, its  members  recoil  from  the  doctrinaire  positions 
of  the  old  and  assume  a  more  modest  role.     Indeed,  some 


viii  FROUDE'S  "C^SAR" 

of  the  most  pronounced  disciples  of  the  new  school  are 
already  throwing  the  whole  subject  of  historical  laws  and 
the  philosophy  of  history  over  to  the  philosophers.  Thus 
the  latest  voice  from  Mr.  Froude's  own  university  assures 
us  that  ''the  formation  and  expression  of  ethical  judgments, 
the  approval  or  condemnation  of  Caius  Julius  Caesar  or 
of  Caesar  Borgia,  is  not  a  thing  within  the  historian's  prov- 
ince. His  business  is  to  find  out  what  can  be  known  about 
the  characters  and  situations  with  which  he  is  engaged, 
to  put  what  he  can  ascertain  before  his  readers  in  a  clear 
form,  and,  lastly,  to  consider  and  attempt  to  ascertain  what 
scientific  use  can  be  made  of  these  facts  he  has  ascertained. 
Ethics  on  its  didactic  side  is  outside  his  business  altogether. 
In  fact,  MM.  Langlois  and  Seignobos  write  for  those  '  who 
propose  to  deal  with  documents  (especially  written  docu- 
ments) with  a  view  to  preparing  or  accomplishing  historic 
work  in  a  scientific  way.'  .  .  .  The  historian  very  properly 
furnishes  the  ethical  student  with  material,  though  it  is 
not  right  to  reckon  the  ethical  student's  judgment  upon 
the  historian's  facts  as  history  in  any  sense.  It  is  not  a 
historian's  question,  for  instance,  whether  Napoleon  was 
right  or  wrong  in  his  conduct  at  Jafifa,  or  Nelson  in  his 
behaviour  at  Naples;  that  is  a  matter  for  the  student  of 
ethics  or  the  religious  dogmatician  to  decide;  all  that 
the  historian  has  to  do  is  to  get  what  conclusion  he  can 
out  of  the  conflict  of  evidence,  and  to  decide  whether 
Napoleon  and  Nelson  actually  did  that  of  which  their  ene- 
mies accuse  them,  or,  if  he  can  not  arrive  at  fact,  to  state 
probability,  and  the  reasons  that  incline  him  to  lean  to 
the  affirmative  or  negative."  ^ 

Such  is  the  new  science  of  history  carried  to  its  farthest 
limit.    It  is  not  our  business  to  consider  it  in  itself,  beyond 

*  F.  York  Powell.  See  "  To  the  Reader,"  in  "  Introduction  to  the  Study 
of  History,"  by  Ch.  V.  Langlois  and  Ch.  Seignobos  of  the  Sorbonne, 
translated  by  G.  E.  Berry  (New  York,  1898). 


FROUDE'S   "  CESAR  ^'  ix 

offering  the  obvious  remark  that  it  denies  in  toto  the  cele- 
brated aphorism  commonly  attributed  to  Lord  Boling- 
broke,  but  in  reaHty  only  quoted  by  him  from  Dionysius 
of  Halicarnassus,  and  by  him  from  Thucydides,  "  History 
is  philosophy  teaching  by  examples."  The  historian  fur- 
nishes raw  materials  to  the  philosopher  and  the  theologian, 
to  the  statesman  and  the  soldier  and  other  practical  men; 
but  as  a  historian  he  has  no  mission  of  leadership  or  guid- 
ance in  the  field  of  human  conduct — this  is  the  doctrine. 

While  there  is  no  evidence  to  show,  so  far  as  I  am  aware, 
that  this  later  science  of  history,  in  a  fully  developed  form, 
ever  came  before  Mr.  Froude  for  judgment,  it  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  predict  what,  in  such  a  case,  his  judgment  would 
have  been.  In  the  first  place,  he  would  have  recoiled  from 
the  rigour  with  which  the  renunciation  of  prudential  or 
ethical  purpose  is  pushed  to  its  limit.  Notwithstanding  his 
advice  to  students  of  history  to  cast  no  horoscopes,  he 
wrote:  "  Opinions  alter,  manners  change,  creeds  rise  and 
fall,  but  the  moral  law  is  written  on  the  tablets  of  eternity. 
For  every  false  word  or  unrighteous  deed,  for  cruelty  and 
oppression,  for  lust  or  vanity,  the  price  has  to  be  paid 
at  last;  not  always  by  the  chief  offender,  but  paid  by  some 
one.  Justice  and  truth  alone  endure  and  live.  Injustice 
and  falsehood  may  be  long-lived,  but  doomsday  comes  at 
last  to  them,  in  French  Revolutions  and  other  terrible 
ways."  Then,  while  he  held  the  Englishman's  common 
valuation  of  institutions,  he  was  constitutionally  incapable 
of  according  to  them  that  supreme  importance  which  the 
men  of  the  new  school  demand.  He  was  too  well  grounded 
in  the  doctrine  of  Individualities,  and  too  much  interested 
in  human  beings,  to  take  a  keen  interest  in  such  investiga- 
tions as  those  prosecuted  by  Bishop  Stubbs  and  his  dis- 
ciples. While  interesting  in  their  way,  institutions  are  not 
very  dramatic.  What  is  more,  he  never  could  have  mas- 
tered the  new  method.     Somewhere  he  speaks  of  the  in- 


X:  FROUDE'S   "CESAR" 

calculable  labour  that  he  performed  in  handling  materials; 
but  his  genius  was  the  genius  of  the  writing-table  rather 
than  of  the  book-shelf,  the  record  ofBce,  and  the  muniment- 
room.  Indeed,  his  name  has  been  seized  upon  as  an  appel- 
lative for  "  chronic  inaccuracy."  ''  Froude  was  a  gifted 
writer,"  say  MM.  Langlois  and  Seignobos,  "  but  destined 
never  to  advance  any  statement  that  was  not  disfigured  by 
error;  it  has  been  said  of  him  that  he  was  constitutionally 
inaccurate.  .  .  .  Froude  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  utility 
of  criticism,  and  he  was  even  one  of  the  first  in  England  to 
base  the  study  of  history  on  that  of  original  documents, 
as  well  unpublished  as  published;  but  his  mental  conforma- 
tion rendered  him  altogether  unfit  for  the  emendation  of 
texts;  indeed,  he  murdered  them,  unintentionally,  when- 
ever he  touched  them.  Just  as  Daltonism  (an  afTection  of 
the  organs  of  sight  which  prevents  a  man  from  distinguish- 
ing correctly  between  red  and  green  signals)  incapacitates 
for  employment  on  a  railway,  so  chronic  inaccuracy,  or 
'  Froude's  disease  '  (a  malady  not  very  difficult  to  diag- 
nose), ought  to  be  regarded  as  incompatible  with  the  pro- 
fessional practice  of  critical  scholarship." 

In  the  "  Caesar "  Mr.  Froude  appears  to  recognise  a 
larger  didactic  element  in  history  than  his  theory,  as  an- 
nounced in  his  lecture,  would  justify.  He  begins  with  com- 
menting upon  the  peculiar  interest  that  the  conversion  of 
the  Roman  Republic  into  a  military  empire  has  for  the 
student  of  political  history,  and  to  the  English  student 
above  all  others.  The  Romans  surpassed  all  other  peoples 
save  the  English  in  the  faculty  of  self-government;  in  vir- 
tue of  their  temporal  freedom,  they  became  the  most  power- 
ful nation  in  the  world;  and  their  liberties  perished  only 
when  Rome  became  the  mistress  of  conquered  races  to 
whom  she  was  unable  or  unwilling  to  extend  her  privileges. 
England  herself,  he  tells  us,  might  under  similar  circum- 
stances be  led  over  the  same  course  to  the  same  end.    "  If 


FROUDE'S   "C^SAR"  xi 

there  be  one  lesson  which  history  clearly  teaches,  it  is  this, 
that  free  nations  can  not  govern  subject  provinces.  If 
they  are  unable  or  unwilling  to  admit  their  dependencies 
to  their  own  constitution,  the  constitution  itself  will  fall 
in  pieces  from  mere  incompetence  for  its  duties." 

The  action  opens  in  the  second  chapter.  After  sketch- 
ing briefly  but  strongly  the  character  of  the  Roman  con- 
stitution, the  Roman  legal  fibre  and  habit,  the  Roman 
religion,  morality,  and  intellect,  the  author  plunges  boldly 
into  the  stream  of  events  that,  setting  in  with  the  begin- 
ning of  the  provincial  system,  never  ceased  to  flow  until 
Romans  were  confronted,  whether  they  saw  it  or  not,  with 
the  alternative  of  the  total  destruction  of  Rome  as  a  great 
political  and  military  power  and  a  total  change  in  its  con- 
stitution. While  he  sees  that,  when  things  came  to  the 
worst,  the  Roman  mob  was  as  unfit  to  rule  as  the  Roman 
Senate,  still  his  sympathies  are  with  the  mob,  or  at  least 
with  the  populace,  rather  than  with  the  Senate.  Whatever 
his  political  principles  and  affiliations  as  an  Englishman 
may  have  been,  he  boldly  takes  his  place  with  the  popular 
party,  not  merely  of  Rome  but  of  History.  When  all  is 
said  and  done,  that  is  still  the  party  of  moderation  and 
mercy.     He  puts  the  case  in  this  powerful  paragraph: 

"  Patricians  and  plebeians,  aristocrats  and  democrats, 
have  alike  stained  their  hands  wdth  blood  in  the  working 
out  of  the  problem  of  politics.  But  impartial  history  also 
declares  that  the  crimes  of  the  popular  party  have  in  all 
ages  been  the  lighter  in  degree,  w^iile  in  themselves  they 
have  more  to  excuse  them ;  and  if  the  violent  acts  of  revo- 
lutionists have  been  held  up  more  conspicuously  for  con- 
demnation, it  has  been  only  because  the  fate  of  noblemen 
and  gentlemen  has  been  more  impressive  to  the  imagina- 
tion than  the  fate  of  the  peasant  or  the  artisan.  But  the 
endurance  of  the  inequalities  of  life  by  the  poor  is  the 
marvel  of  human  society.     When  the  people  complain, 


xii  FROUDE'S   "C^SAR" 

said  Mirabeau,  the  people  are  always  right.  The  popular 
cause  has  been  the  cause  of  the  labourer  struggling  for  a 
right  to  live  and  breathe  and  think  as  a  man.  Aristocra- 
cies fight  for  wealth  and  power — wealth  which  they  waste 
upon  luxury,  and  power  which  they  abuse  for  their  own 
interests.  Yet  the  cruelties  of  Marius  were  as  far  exceeded 
by  the  cruelties  of  Sylla  as  the  insurrection  of  the  beggars 
of  Holland  was  exceeded  by  the  bloody  tribunal  of  the 
Duke  of  Alva;  or  as  *  the  horrors  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion *  were  exceeded  by  the  massacre  of  the  Huguenots  two 
hundred  years  before,  for  which  the  Revolution  was  the 
expiatory  atonement." 

Holding  this  view  of  the  democracy  and  the  aristocracy 
in  general,  and  of  the  Roman  democracy  and  aristocracy 
in  particular,  Mr.  Froude  necessarily  takes  the  popular  side 
throughout,  from  the  enacting  of  the  Agrarian  Laws  to  the 
final  merger  of  the  Roman  Republic  in  the  Roman  Empire. 
He  is  not  blind  to  the  mistakes  and  excesses  of  the  popular 
leaders,  or  to  the  ignorance  and  passions  of  the  populace 
themselves,  but  it  is  almost  as  easy  for  him  to  extenuate 
their  shortcomings  as  it  is  for  him  to  denounce  the  folly 
and  wickedness  of  the  aristocrats. 

History  might  be  searched  through  to  find  a  theme  more 
consonant  with  Mr.  Froude's  theories  of  history  and  his- 
torical narrative,  or  with  his  own  peculiar  genius,  than  the 
career  of  Julius  Caesar.  The  result  is  a  typical  book  in  all 
respects,  showing  to  the  full  both  the  author's  strength 
and  his  weakness.  If  historical  action  ever  or  anywhere 
took  on  the  grandest  forms  of  the  drama,  it  was  in  the 
Roman  world  between  the  appearance  of  the  Gracchi  in 
the  Forum  and  the  final  exit  of  Caesar  in  the  Senate-house. 
The  scene  shifts  continually,  and  the  changes  could  hardly 
be  more  striking.  Rome,  the  Italian  provinces,  Spain, 
Gaul,  Britain,  the  Rhine  frontier,  Greece,  Asia  Minor, 
Syri^i,  Africa,  §ucc^^d  on^  another,  and  repeat  themselves, 


FROUDE'S  "C.€SAR"  xiii 

with  astonishing  swiftness.  Great  characters  throng  the 
stage — the  Gracchi,  Marius,  Sylla,  Pompey  the  Great, 
Mithridates,  Cicero,  Crassus,  Cato,  Cleopatra,  Vercingeto- 
rix,  and  the  "  foremost  man  in  all  the  world  "  himself; 
while  the  Roman  populace,  the  Italian  provincials,  the 
Spaniard  and  the  Gaul,  the  Celt  and  the  German,  the  Greek 
and  the  Syrian,  the  Parthian  and  the  Moor,  fill  up  the  back- 
ground. Naturally,  Mr.  Froude  made  the  most  of  his 
opportunity.  A  far  greater  dramatist  than  he  was  drawn 
to  the  same  subject;  but  even  Shakespeare  utilized  for  his 
purpose  only  a  small  part  of  the  dramatic  material  in  which 
the  period  abounds. 

But  on  the  negative  as  well  as  on  the  positive  side  the 
theme  was  suited  to  the  writer's  genius.  There  was  plenty 
of  opportunity  for  an  author  of  great  critical  talents  to 
go  wrong  in  telling  the  story,  and  Mr.  Froude's  critics 
were  not  slow  to  point  out  that  the  rushing  tide  of  his  nar- 
rative bore  on  its  surface  errors  of  fact  so  numerous  and 
so  serious  as  greatly  to  impair,  if  not  destroy,  the  value 
of  his  work  as  an  authority.  But,  fortunately  for  him, 
there  is  no  great  historical  theme  that  admits  of  more  error 
in  details  without  necessarily  sacrificing  or  even  endanger- 
ing the  truth  of  the  picture  considered  as  a  whole.  With 
the  exception  of  a  few  scholars,  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
Mr.  Froude's  inaccuracies  made  any  impression  upon  the 
readers  of  his  fascinating  pages.  Of  course,  it  will  be  said 
that  few  of  these  readers  knew  anything  about  these  in- 
accuracies; but  we  fancy  it  would  have  made  little  differ- 
ence with  the  majority  if  they  had  known  all  about  them. 
It  is  easy  to  say,  *' The  morels  the  pity!"  but  common 
sense  comes  back  with  the  reply,  "  What's  the  difference, 
so  long  as  the  general  effect  is  the  same?  "  Great  human 
transactions  are  like  great  objects  of  Nature,  as  the  sea 
or  the  mountains;  they  make  men  indifferent  to  nice  criti- 
cism and  minute  observation,  if  not  impatient  of  them. 


xiv  FROUDE'S   "C^SAR" 

For  example,  it  was  pointed  out  when  the  book  appeared 
that  the  senatorial  juries  could  not  have  been  guilty  of  all 
the  infamies  with  which  Froude  charges  them,  for  the  very 
simple  reason  that  civil  cases  and  many  criminal  ones  did 
not  come  before  them,  although  he  distinctly  asserts  the 
contrary;  but  somehow,  in  the  presence  of  the  innumer- 
able iniquities  of  which  the  members  of  the  order  were 
guilty,  we  do  not  feel  that,  after  all,  it  makes  much  differ- 
ence. Men  listen  with  most  interest  and  profit  to  the  his- 
torical critic  when  he  deals  with  topics  in  which  the  blood 
does  not  come  so  near  to  the  surface.  It  is  very  true  that 
this  is  not  the  science  of  history  according  to  either  of  the 
schools  characterized  above.  No  special  vindication  of  this 
way  of  looking  at  things  is  intended;  but  it  is  important  to 
state  the  facts  and  show  how  they  serve  to  explain  the 
success  of  a  great  work  of  literature. 

Again,  while  the  story  that  Mr.  Froude  has  to  tell  is 
so  consonant  with  his  theories  and  his  genius,  there  is  per- 
haps no  story  that  tends  more  directly  to  overthrow  those 
theories  and  to  confirm  the  central  idea  of  the  first  school 
of  historical  science.  Nowhere  else  in  the  Western  world, 
certainly,  does  the  stream  of  historic  events  seem  to  be 
more  utterly  regardless  of  individual  wills,  and  so  to  sup- 
port more  fully  the  conception  of  primitive  elemental  forces 
working  in  human  affairs.  No  doubt  the  conclusion  is  fal- 
lacious; but  it  is  interesting  nevertheless,  with  the  thought 
in  mind,  to  glance  at  a  single  phase  of  the  great  movement. 

The  popular  party  at  Rome  presented  to  the  aristocracy 
of  wealth  an  unflagging  opposition,  and  triumphed  over  it 
in  the  end;  but  this  triumph  involved  the  conversion  of 
the  commonwealth  into  the  empire,  which  for  a  time  gave 
peace  and  order  to  the  world,  bringing  in  universal  ideas 
and  universal  laws,  and  preparing  the  way  for  Christian- 
ity, and  so  unquestionably  extended  the  life  of  the  Roman 
world  by  some  centuries;  Init  still  it  ended  in  an  Oriental 


FROUDE'S   "C^SAR"  XV 

despotism,  the  atrocities  of  which  surpass  those  of  the" 
senatorial  domination.  The  senatorial  party  at  Rome  was 
indeed  incapable  of  giving  to  the  world,  even  for  a  season, 
the  peace  and  order  that  the  empire  secured,  but  its  fail- 
ure could  hardly  have  been  more  disastrous  in  the  end. 
It  was  a  strange  ending  for  a  popular  movement.  It  seems 
the  very  irony  of  history  that  a  great  popular  teacher 
should  have  founded  the  greatest  of  the  ancient  empires. 
The  great  facts  that  the  "  Caesar  "  brings  into  view  are 
these:  The  internal  decay  of  the  commonwealth;  the  steady 
expansion  of  ythe  Roman  world  despite  that  decay;  the 
increasing  non-adaptation  of  the  constitution,  well  suited 
as  it  had  been  to  the  city,  to  the  needs  of  a  world-empire; 
the  ideals,  interests,  and  passions  of  the  two  contending 
parties;  the  aims,  character,  and  work  of  the  leaders  on 
both  sides,  and  the  final  consummation.  Some  of  these 
topics  hardly  admit  of  serious  difference  of  opinion;  con- 
cerning others,  men  always  have  disagreed,  and  there  is 
no  reason  to  think  that  they  will  ever  come  to  a  complete 
agreement.  The  search  for  historic  truth  should  be  as 
rigorous  and  scientific  as  possible;  the  historian  should 
burn  the  "  dry  light,"  and  guard  against  the  ''  suffusion  " 
that  arises  from  the  affections  and  the  will;  but  history 
can  not  be  put  on  the  same  footing  with  the  physical  sci- 
ences. It  will  be  idle,  in  the  long  run,  to  tell  the  historical 
scholar  that  he  ought  to  look  upon  the  doings  of  Bona- 
parte at  Jaffa  or  of  Nelson  at  Naples  as  the  astronomer 
looks  upon  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide,  or  the  geologist 
upon  the  spouting  of  a  geyser.  History  can  not  be  made 
wholly  objective  or  wholly  impersonal.  Man  has  much 
more  than  a  scientific  interest  for  man.  Nor  does  it  dis- 
pose of  the  question  to  hand  the  ethical  matters  over  to 
the  philosopher  and  the  dogmatician,  for  the  separation 
of  these  elements  from  history  is  neither  practicable  nor 
desirable.    Then,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  no  ques- 


xvi  .  FROUDE'S   "Cv^SAR" 

tions  are  so  difficult  to  pass  upon  as  the  aims,  spirit,  char- 
acter, and  even  work  of  most  great  actors  in  history.  Add 
to  this  difficuhy  the  further  one  arising  from  the  paucity 
of  evidence  or  its  character,  and  we  have  the  reason  why 
unanimity  of  opinion  upon  many  of  the  questions  that 
Mr.  Froude  deals  with  is  not  to  be  expected. 

Take  the  state  of  things  at  Rome  in  the  days  of  Cicero 
and  Pompey,  and  it  presents  this  question:  Could  society 
have  existed  if  men  generally  were  so  corrupt,  selfish,  and 
base  as  they  are  here  represented  as  being?  Must  there 
not  have  been  in  this  case,  and  is  there  not  in  all  such  cases, 
a  vast  mass  of  virtues  that  the  historian,  and  particularly 
the  dramatic  historian,  fails  to  discover?  Reading  history 
under  the  calcium  lights  of  Carlyle,  for  example,  is  some- 
thing like  studying  a  landscape  under  a  succession  of  light- 
ning flashes.  The  lights  blaze  down  into  the  deep  caverns, 
they  reveal  unseen  nooks  and  corners,  they  light  up  many 
a  dark  recess;  they  blind  with  their  glare,  and  they  terrify 
with  their  shade,  but  the  picture  is  unreal  and  unnatural. 
It  is  well  enough  to  study  a  landscape  during  an  electric 
storm;  but  if  it  be  one's  purpose  to  know  the  landscape 
as  it  really  is,  and  not  merely  to  admire  brilliant  colours 
and  deep  shadows,  he  will  choose  rather  to  study  it  under 
the  strong  but  calm  rays  of  the  noonday  sun. 

Then  there  is  the  character  and  the  work  of  Caesar — 
how  can  men  ever  agree  about  them?  No  doubt  those 
who  are  most  competent  to  judge  Caesar  have  come  nearer 
together,  but  such  approaches  have  their  limits.  How 
far  was  he  actuated  by  purely  patriotic  purpose,  and  how 
far  by  lust  of  power?  The  question  can  not  be  pushed 
aside,  for  the  answer  is  intimately  related  to  our  view  of 
Caesar  as  a  man.  In  such  matters  men  can  not  get  wholly 
away  from  themselves;  and  since  they  differ  in  themselves, 
they  will  differ  in  opinion.  Thus  one's  view  of  Caesar  will 
turn  in  a  large  degree  upon  his  view  of  the  long-continued 


FROUDE'S  "C^SAR"  xvii 

Struggle  at  Rome,  as  Mr.  Froude  himself  illustrates.  Hap- 
pily, there  is  little  chance  for  dispute  as  to  the  greatness 
of  Caesar^s  abilities  or  the  magnitude  of  his  achievements. 
But  the  conversion  of  the  commonwealth  into  the  empire 
fairly  bristles  with  difficulties,  some  of  which  intimately 
affect  our  judgment  of  Caesar's  statesmanship.  Grant  that 
the  conversion  lengthened  out  the  life  of  the  Roman  world, 
that  the  empire  of  history  was  not  the  empire  of  Caesar's 
vision,  that  he  strove  to  guard  against  the  despotism  of 
the  rulers  who  took,  some  their  name  and  all  their  title, 
from  him,  by  restoring  and  building  up  local  organs  and 
institutions  that  should  safeguard  freedom  and  curb  tyr- 
anny. Still,  a  statesman  is  partially  accountable  for  results 
that  he  did  not  plan  or  desire.  It  is  not  a  light  thing  to 
introduce  a  new  cause  of  tremendous  power  into  the  chain 
of  historical  causation.  If  Caesar  was  the  man  Mr.  Froude 
takes  him  for,  he  might  well  have  hesitated,  had  he  been 
endowed  with  prevision,  to  make  a  beginning  of  the  em- 
pire. In  the  end,  Caesarism  proved  to  be  no  cure  for  the 
evils  of  republicanism.  The  great  thing  that  Caesarism, 
or  the  Roman  Empire,  did  for  the  world — and  it  was  very 
great — Mr.  Froude  has  told  us  in  one  of  his  numerous 
paragraphs  that  are  hardly  consistent  with  his  theory  of 
history: 

"  The  Roman  nation  had  grown  as  the  oak  grows,  self- 
developed  in  severe  morality,  each  citizen  a  law  to  him- 
self, and  therefore  capable  of  political  freedom  in  an  un- 
exampled degree.  All  organizations  destined  to  endure 
spring  from  forces  inherent  in  themselves,  and  must  grow 
freely,  or  they  will  not  grow  at  all.  When  the  tree  reaches 
maturity,  decay  sets  in;  if  it  be  left  standing,  the  disinte- 
gration of  the  fibre  goes  swiftly  forward;  if  the  stem  is 
severed  from  the  root,  the  destroying  power  is  alrrested, 
and  the  timber  will  endure  a  thousand  years.  So  it  was 
with  Rome.     The  constitution  under  which  the  empire 


xviii  FROUDE'S  "C^SAR" 

had  sprung  up  was  poisoned,  and  was  brought  to  a  violent 
end  before  it  had  affected  materially  for  evil  the  masses  of 
the  people.  The  solid  structure  was  preserved — not  to 
grow  any  longer,  not  to  produce  a  new  Camillus  or  a  new 
Regulus,  a  new  Scipio  Africanus  or  a  new  Tiberius  Grac- 
chus, but  to  form  an  endurable  shelter  for  civilized  man- 
kind, until  a  fresh,  spiritual  life  was  developed  out  of  Pales- 
tine to  remodel  the  conscience  of  humanity/' 

What  has  been  said  makes  it  very  easy  to  point  out  the 
credentials  of  the  ''  Caesar,"  entitling  it  to  stand  among  the 
great  books  of  literature.  They  are  not  great  thorough- 
ness of  research,  great  accuracy  in  facts,  or  special  sound- 
ness of  critical  judgment.  The  book  does  not  bear  these 
marks  of  excellence;  what  is  more,  it  might  have  borne 
them  all  and  still  have  no  claim  to  be  admitted  to  the  goodly 
company  where  we  find  it.  Its  credentials  will  rather  be 
found  in  the  fact  that  the  "  Caesar  "  is  an  extraordinarily 
powerful  and  brilliant  sketch,  correct  in  its  general  features, 
of  one  of  the  most  remarkable  series  of  events  in  the  his- 
tory of  mankind. 

James  Anthony  Froude  was  born  in  Devonshire,  Eng- 
land, in  1818.  His  father  was  a  clergyman,  and  the 
son,  after  graduation  at  Oxford  in  1840,  was  ordained 
deacon,  and  became  a  Fellow  of  Exeter  College.  But  his 
"  Shadows  of  the  Clouds  "  (1847)  and  ''  Nemesis  of  Faith  " 
(1848)  exhibited  radical  dissent  from  the  doctrines  of  the 
Established  Church,  and  were  condemned  by  the  uni- 
versity. Froude  thereupon  resigned  his  fellowship,  and 
as  soon  as  he  could  legally  do  so  withdrew  from  clerical 
orders.  He  devoted  his  life  to  literature,  and  pro- 
duced about  thirty  works,  the  most  extensive  being  a 
"  History  of  England  from  the  Fall  of  Wolsey  to  the  De- 
feat of  the  Spanish  Armada  "  (twelve  volumes,  1 856-' 70). 
The  others  include  *'  The  English  in  Ireland  in  the  Eight- 


FROUDE'S    "CyESAR"  xix 

eenth  Century,"  biographies  of  Becket,  Bunyan,  Luther, 
Beaconsfield,  and  Erasmus,  "  The  EngHsh  in  the  West 
Indies,"  and  a  novel  entitled  '*  The  Two  Chiefs  of  Dunboy." 
He  was  Carlyle's  literary  executor,  and  published  the  life 
and  letters  of  both  Thomas  and  Jane  Welsh  Carlyle.  He 
was  made  Rector  of  St.  Andrew's  University  in  1869,  and 
in  1892  succeeded  Freeman  as  regius  professor  of  his- 
tory at  Oxford.  Froude's  first  wife  was  Miss  Grenfell,  a 
sister  of  Charles  Kingsley's  wife,  and  is  said  to  have 
been  the  original  of  Argemone  Lavington  in  Kingsley's 
"  Yeast."  She  died  in  i860,  and  three  years  later  he  mar- 
ried Miss  Warre.  Mr.  Froude  died  at  Salcomloe,  Devon- 
shire, October  20,  1894.  He  is  said  to  have  had  a  wonder- 
ful charm  of  manner,  which  influenced  every  one  whom 
he  met. 

Burke  A.  Hinsdale. 


THE  AUTHOR'S   PREFACE 


I  HAVE  called  this  work  a  "  sketch  "  because  the  mate- 
rials do  not  exist  for  a  portrait  which  shall  be  at  once 
authentic  and  complete.  The  original  authorities 
which  are  now  extant  for  the  life  of  Caesar  are  his  own 
writings,  the  speeches  and  letters  of  Cicero,  the  eighth 
book  of  the  "  Commentaries  "  on  the  wars  in  Gaul  and 
the  history  of  the  Alexandrian  war,  by  Aulus  Hirtius,  the 
accounts  of  the  African  war  and  of  the  war  in  Spain,  com- 
posed by  persons  who  were  unquestionably  present  in  those 
two  campaigns.  To  these  must  be  added  the  *'  Leges 
Juliae  "  which  are  preserved  in  the  Corpus  Juris  Civilis. 
Sallust  contributes  a  speech,  and  Catullus  a  poem.  A  few 
hints  can  be  gathered  from  the  Epitome  of  Livy  and  the 
fragments  of  Varro;  and  here  the  contemporary  sources 
which  can  be  entirely  depended  upon  are  brought  to 
an  end. 

The  secondary  group  of  authorities  from  which  the 
popular  histories  of  the  time  have  been  chiefly  taken  are 
Appian,  Plutarch,  Suetonius,  and  Dion  Cassius.  Of  these, 
the  first  three  were  divided  from  the  period  which  they 
describe  by  nearly  a  century  and  a  half,  Dion  Cassius  by 
more  than  two  centuries.  They  had  means  of  knowledge 
which  no  longer  exist — the  writings,  for  instance,  of  Asin- 
ius  PoUio,  who  was  one  of  Caesar's  officers.  But  Asinius 
PoUio's  accounts  of  Caesar's  actions,  as^  reported  by  Ap- 


xxii  FROUDE'S   "C^SAR" 

pian,  can  not  always  be  reconciled  with  the  "  Commen- 
taries"; and  all  these  four  writers  relate  incidents  as  facts 
which  are  sometimes  demonstrably  false.  Suetonius  is 
apparently  the  most  trustworthy.  His  narrative,  like  those 
of  his  contemporaries,  was  coloured  by  tradition.  His 
biographies  of  the  earlier  Caesars  betray  the  same  spirit 
of  animosity  against  them  which  taints  the  credibility  of 
Tacitus,  and  prevailed  for  so  many  years  in  aristocratic 
Roman  society.  But  Suetonius  shows,  nevertheless,  an 
effort  at  veracity,  an  antiquarian  curiosity  and  diligence, 
and  a  serious  anxiety  to  tell  his  story  impartially.  Sueto- 
nius, in  the  absence  of  evidence  direct  or  presumptive  to 
the  contrary,  I  have  felt  myself  able  to  follow.  The  other 
three  writers  I  have  trusted  only  when  I  have  found  them 
partially  confirmed  by  evidence  which  is  better  to  be  re- 
lied upon. 

The  picture  which  I  have  drawn  will  thus  be  found 
deficient  in  many  details  which  have  passed  into  general 
acceptance,  and  I  have  been  unable  to  claim  for  it  a  higher 
title  than  that  of'.an  outline  drawing. 


TO 

GEORGE   BUTLER, 


IN   TOKEN   OF 

A  FRIENDSHIP   WHICH   COMMENCED   THIRTY-SEVEN   YEARS   AGO, 

WHEN    WE    WERE   ELECTED   TOGETHER    FELLOWS    OF   OUR   COLLEGE, 

WHICH    HAS    GROWN    WITH    OUR   INCREASING   AGE, 

AND    WILL   CONTINUE,    I    HOPE,    UNBROKEN 

AS   LONG   AS   WE   BOTH    SHALL   LIVE. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   I 

FAGK 

Free  Constitutions  and  imperial  tendencies — Instructiveness  of 
Roman  history — Character  of  historical  epochs — The  age  of 
Caesar — Spiritual  state  of  Rome— Contrasts  between  ancient 
and  modern  civilization I 

CHAPTER   n 

The  Roman  Constitution— Moral  character  of  the  Romans — Roman 
religion — Morality  and  intellect — Expansion  of  Roman  power 
— The  Senate— Roman  slavery— Effects  of  intercourse  with 
Greece — Patrician  degeneracy — The  Roman  noble — Influence 
of  wealth— Beginnings  of  discontent 8 

CHAPTER   HI 

Tiberius  Gracchus — Decay  of  the  Italian  yeomanry — Agrarian  law 
— Success  and  murder  of  Gracchus — Land  commission — Caius 
Gracchus — Transfer  of  judicial  functions  from  the  Senate  to 
the  Equites — Sempronian  laws — Free  grants  of  corn — Plans  for 
extension  of  the  franchise — New  colonies — Reaction — Murder 
of  Caius  Gracchus 19 

CHAPTER   IV 

Victory  of  the  Optimates — The  Moors — History  of  Jugurtha — The 
Senate  corrupted — Jugurthine  war — Defeat  of  the  Romans — 
Jugurtha  comes  to  Rome — Popular  agitation — The  war  renewed 
— Roman  defeats  in  Africa  and  Gaul — Caecilius  Metellus  and 
Caius  Marius — Marriage  of  Marius — The  Caesars — Marius  con- 
sul— First  notice  of  Sylla — Capture  and  death  of  Jugurtha         .      29 

CHAPTER   V 

Birth  of  Cicero — The  Cimbri  and  Teutons — German  immigration 
into  Gaul — Great  defeat  of  the  Romans  on  the  Rhone — Wan- 


XXVI  FROUDE'S   "C^SAR" 

derings  of  the  Cimbri — Attempted  invasion  of  Italy — Battle  of 
Aix— Destruction  of  the  Teutons— Defeat  of  the  Cimbri  on  the 
Po — Reform  in  the  Roman  army — Popular  disturbances  in 
Rome — Murder  of  Memmius — Murder  of  Saturninus  and  Glau- 
cia 


PAGE 


38 


CHAPTER   VI 

Birth  and  childhood  of  Julius  Csesar— Italian  franchise— Discontent 
of  the  Italians — Action  of  the  land  laws — The  social  war — Par- 
tial concessions— Sylla  and  Marius — Mithridates  of  Pontus— 
First  mission  of  Sylla  into  Asia 45 

CHAPTER   VII 

War  with  Mithridates— Massacre  of  Italians  in  Asia— Invasion  of 
Greece — Impotence  and  corruption  of  the  Senate — End  of  the 
social  war — Sylla  appointed  to  the  Asiatic  command — The  As- 
sembly transfer  the  command  to  Marius — Sylla  marches  on 
Rome — Flight  of  Marius — Change  of  the  Constitution— Sylla 
sails  for  the  East — Four  years'  absence — Defeat  of  Mithridates 
— Contemporary  incidents  at  Rome — Counter-revolution— Con- 
sulship of  Cinna — Return  of  Marius — Capitulation  of  Rome — 
Massacre  of  patricians  and  equites — Triumph  of  Democracy     .       53 

CHAPTER   VIII 

The  young  Caesar — Connection  with  Marius — Intimacy  with  the 
Ciceros — Marriage  of  Csesar  with  the  daughter  of  Cinna — Ser- 
torius — Death  of  Cinna — Consulships  of  Norbanus  and  Scipio 
— Sylla's  return — First  appearance  of  Pompey — Civil  war — 
Victory  of  Sylla — The  dictatorship  and  the  proscription — De- 
struction of  the  popular  party  and  murder  of  the  popular  lead- 
ers— General  character  of  aristocratic  revolutions — The  Consti- 
tution remodelled — Concentration  of  power  in  the  Senate — 
Sylla's  general  policy — The  army — Flight  of  Sertorius  to  Spain 
— Pompey  and  Sylla — Cassar  refuses  to  divorce  his  wife  at 
Sylla's  order — Danger  of  Cassar — His  pardon — Growing  conse- 
quence of  Cicero — Defence  of  Roscius — Sylla's  abdication  and 
death 62 

CHAPTER   IX 

Sertorius  in  Spain — Warning  of  Cicero  to  the  patricians — Leading 
aristocrats — Caesar  with  the  army  in  the  East — Nicomedes  of 


CONTENTS  xxvii 

PAGE 

Bithynia — The  Bithynian  scandal — Conspiracy  of  Lepidus — 
Cassar  returns  to  Rome — Defeat  of  Lepidus — Prosecution  of 
Dolabella — Caesar  taken  by  pirates — Senatorial  corruption — 
Universal  disorder — Civil  war  in  Spain — Growth  of  Mediter- 
ranean piracy — Connivance  of  the  Senate — Provincial  adminis- 
tration— Verres  in  Sicily — Prosecuted  by  Cicero — Second  war 
with  Mithridates — First  success  of  LucuUus — Failure  of  Lucul- 
lus,  and  the  cause  of  it — Avarice  of  Roman  commanders — The 
gladiators — The  Servile  War — Results  of  the  change  in  the 
Constitution  introduced  by  Sylla 8i 

CHAPTER  X 
Caesar  military  tribune — Becomes  known  as  a  speaker — Is  made 
quaestor — Speech  at  his  aunt's  funeral — Consulship  of  Pompey 
and  Crassus — Cassar  marries  Pompey 's  cousin — Mission  to 
Spain — Restoration  of  the  powers  of  the  tribunes — The  Equites 
and  the  Senate — The  pirates — Food  supplies  cut  off  from  Rome 
— The  Gabinian  law — Resistance  of  the  patricians — Suppression 
of  the  pirates  by  Pompey — The  Manilian  law — Speech  of  Cicero 
— Recall  of  Lucullus — Pompey  sent  to  command  in  Asia — De- 
feat and  death  of  Mithridates — Conquest  of  Asia  by  Pompey    .      98 

CHAPTER   XI 

Histor)'  of  Catiline — A  candidate  for  the  consulship — Catiline  and 
Cicero  — Cicero  chosen  consul — Attaches  himself  to  the  sena- 
torial party — Caesar  elected  aedile — Conducts  an  inquiry  into 
the  Syllan  proscriptions — Prosecution  of  Rabirius — Caesar  be- 
comes Pontifex  Maximus — And  Praetor — Cicero's  conduct  as 
consul — Proposed  Agrarian  law — Resisted  by  Cicero — Catiline 
again  stands  for  the  consulship — Violent  language  in  the  Sen- 
ate— Threatened  revolution — Catiline  again  defeated — The  con- 
spiracy— Warnings  sent  to  Cicero — Meeting  at  Catiline's  house 
— Speech  of  Cicero  in  the  Senate — Catiline  joins  an  army  of  in- 
surrection in  Etruria — His  fellow-conspirators — Correspondence 
with  the  Allobroges — Letters  read  in  the  Senate — The  con- 
spirators seized — Debate  upon  their  fate — Speech  of  Caesar — 
Cassar  on  the  future  state — Speech  of  Cato — And  of  Cicero — 
The  conspirators  executed  untried — Death  of  Catiline        .        .     108 

CHAPTER   XH 

Preparations  for  the  return  of  Pompey — Scene  in  the  Forum — Cato 
and  Metellus — Caesar  suspended  from  the  prastorship — Cassar 


xxviii  FROUDE'S  "C^SAR" 

PACK 

supports  Pompey — Scandals  against  Caesar's  private  life — Gen- 
eral character  of  them — Festival  of  the  Bona  Dea — Publius 
Clodius  enters  Caesar's  house  dressed  as  a  woman — Prosecu- 
tion and  trial  of  Clodius — His  acquittal  and  the  reason  of  it — 
Successes  of  Caesar  as  pro-prastor  in  Spain — Conquest  of  Lusi- 
tania — Return  of  Pompey  to  Italy — First  speech  in  the  Senate 
— Precarious  position  of  Cicero — Cato  and  the  Equites — Caesar 
elected  consul — Revival  of  the  democratic  party — Anticipated 
Agrarian  law — Uneasiness  of  Cicero 133 


CHAPTER   Xni 

The  consulship  of  Caesar — Character  of  his  intended  legislation — 
The  Land  Act  first  proposed  in  the  Senate — Violent  opposition 
— Caesar  appeals  to  the  Assembly — Interference  of  the  second 
consul  Bibulus — The  Land  Act  submitted  to  the  people — Pom- 
pey and  Crassus  support  it — Bibulus  interposes,  but  without 
success — The  Act  carried — And  other  laws — The  Senate  no 
longer  being  consulted — General  purpose  of  the  Leges  Juliae — 
Caesar  appointed  to  command  in  Gaul  for  five  years — His  ob- 
ject in  accepting  that  province — Condition  of  Gaul  and  the  dan- 
gers to  be  apprehended  from  it — Alliance  of  Caesar,  Pompey, 
and  Crassus — The  Dynasts — Indignation  of  the  aristocracy — 
Threats  to  repeal  Caesar's  laws — Necessity  of  controlling  Cicero 
and  Cato — Clodius  is  made  tribune — Prosecution  of  Cicero  for 
illegal  acts  when  consul — Cicero's  friends  forsake  him — He  flies 
and  is  banished 155 

CHAPTER   XIV 

Caesar's  military  narrative — Divisions  of  Gaul — Distribution  of  pop- 
ulation— The  Celts — Degree  of  civilization — Tribal  system — 
The  Druids — The  ^dui  and  the  Sequani — Roman  and  Ger- 
man parties — Intended  migration  of  the  Helvetii — Composition 
of  Caesar's  army— He  goes  to  Gaul— Checks  the  Helvetii— Re- 
turns to  Italy  for  larger  forces — The  Helvetii  on  the  Saone — 
Defeated  and  sent  back  to  Switzerland — Invasion  of  Gaul  by 
Ariovistus — Caesar  invites  him  to  a  conference — He  refuses — 
Alarm  in  the  Roman  army — Caesar  marches  against  Ariovistus 
— Interview  between  them — Treachery  of  the  Roman  Senate — 
Great  battle  at  Colmar — Defeat  and  annihilation  of  the  Ger- 
mans— End  of  the  first  campaign — Confederacy  among  the 
Belgae — Battle  on  the  Aisne — War  with  the  Nervii — Battle  of 


CONTENTS  xxix 


Maubeuge — Capture  of  Namur — The  Belgae  conquered — Sub- 
mission of  Brittany — End  of  the  second  campaign     ,        .        ,176 

CHAPTER   XV 

Cicero  and  Clodius — Position  and  character  of  Clodius — Cato  sent 
to  Cyprus — Attempted  recall  of  Cicero  defeated  by  Clodius — 
Fight  in  the  Forum — Pardon  and  return  of  Cicero — Moderate 
speech  to  the  people — Violence  in  the  Senate — Abuse  of  Piso 
and  Gabinius — Coldness  of  the  Senate  toward  Cicero — Resto- 
ration of  Cicero's  house — Interfered  with  by  Clodius — Factions 
of  Clodius  and  Milo — Ptolemy  Auletes  expelled  by  his  subjects 
— Appeals  to  Rome  for  help — Alexandrian  envoys  assassinated 
— Clodius  elected  asdile — Fight  in  the  Forum — Parties  in  Rome 
— Situation  of  Cicero — Rally  of  the  aristocracy — Attempt  to 
repeal  the  Leges  Juliae — Conference  at  Lucca — Caesar,  Pompey, 
and  Crassus — Cicero  deserts  the  Senate — Explains  his  motives 
— Confirmation  of  the  Ordinances  of  Lucca — Pompey  and  Cras- 
sus consuls — Caesar's  command  prolonged  for  five  additional 
years — Rejoicings  in  Rome — Spectacle  in  the  amphitheatre      .     203 

CHAPTER   XVI 

Revolt  of  the  Veneti — Fleet  prepared  in  the  Loire — Sea-fight  at 
Quiberon — Reduction  of  Normandy  and  of  Aquitaine — Com- 
plete conquest  of  Gaul — Fresh  arrival  of  Germans  over  the 
lower  Rhine — Caesar  orders  them  to  retire,  and  promises  them 
lands  elsewhere — They  refuse  to  go — And  are  destroyed — 
Bridge  over  the  Rhine — Caesar  invades  Germany — Returns  after 
a  short  inroad — First  expedition  into  Britain — Caesar  lands  at 
Deal,  or  Walmer — Storm  and  injury  to  the  fleet — Approach  of 
the  equinox — Further  prosecution  of  the  enterprise  postponed 
till  the  following  year — Caesar  goes  to  Italy  for  the  winter — 
Large  naval  preparations — Return  of  spring — Alarm  on  the 
Moselle — Fleet  collects  at  Boulogne — Caesar  sails  for  Britain  a 
second  time — Lands  at  Deal — Second  and  more  destructive 
storm — Ships  repaired  and  placed  out  of  danger — Caesar 
marches  through  Kent — Crosses  the  Thames  and  reaches  St. 
Albans — Goes  no  further  and  returns  to  Gaul — Object  of  the 
invasion  of  Britain — Description  of  the  country  and  people       .    230 

CHAPTER   XVII 

Distribution  of  the  legions  after  the  return  from  Britain — Conspir- 
acy among  the  Gallic  chiefs — Rising  of  the  Eburones — Pe§truc- 
Q 


XXX  FROUDE'S   "C^SAR" 

PAGB 

tion  of  Sabinus  and  a  division  of  the  Roman  army — Danger  of 
Quintus  Cicero — Relieved  by  Cassar  in  person — General  dis- 
turbance— Lal)ienus  attacked  at  Lavacherie — Defeats  and  kills 
Induciomarus — Second  conquest  of  the  Belgse — C^esnr  again 
crosses  the  Rhine — Quintus  Cicero  in  danger  a  second  time — 
Courage  of  a  Roman  officer — Punishment  of  the  revolted  chiefs 
— Execution  of  Acco 247 

CHAPTER   XVIII 

Correspondence  of  Cicero  with  Caesar — Intimacy  with  Pompey  and 
Crassus — Attacks  on  Piso  and  Gabinius — Cicero  compelled  to 
defend  Gabinius — And  Vatinius — Dissatisfaction  with  his  posi- 
tion— Corruption  at  the  consular  elections — Public  scandal — 
Caesar  and  Pompey — Deaths  of  Aurelia  and  Julia — Catastrophe 
in  the  East — Overthrow  and  death  of  Crassus — Intrigue  to  de- 
tach Pompey  from  Caesar — Milo  a  candidate  for  the  consulship 
— Murder  of  Clodius — Burning  of  the  Senate-house — Trial  and 
exile  of  Milo — Fresh  engagements  with  Caesar — Promise  of  the 
consulship  at  the  end  of  his  term  in  Gaul 262 

CHAPTER    XIX 

Last  revolt  of  Gaul — Massacre  of  Romans  at  Gien — Vercingetorix 
— Effect  on  the  Celts  of  the  disturbances  at  Rome — Cassar 
crosses  the  Cevennes — Defeats  the  Arverni — Joins  his  army  on 
the  Seine — Takes  Gien,  Nevers,  and  Bourges — Fails  at  Gergo- 
via — Rapid  march  to  Sens — Labienus  at  Paris — Battle  of  the 
Vingeanne — Siege  of  Alesia — Caesar's  double  lines — Arrival  of 
the  relieving  army  of  Gauls — First  battle  on  the  plain — Second 
battle— Great  defeat  of  the  Gauls— Surrender  of  Alesia— Cam- 
paign against  the  Carnutes  and  the  Bellovaci— Rising  on  the 
Dordogne— Capture  of  Uxellodunum— Caesar  at  Arras— Com- 
pletion of  the  conquest 280 

CHAPTER   XX 

Bibulus  in  Syria— Approaching  term  of  Caesar's  government- 
Threats  of  impeachment— Caesar  to  be  consul  or  not  to  be  con- 
sul—Caesar's political  ambition— Hatred  felt  toward  him  by 
the  aristocracy — Two  legions  taken  from  him  on  pretence  of 
service  against  the  Parthians— C^sar  to  be  recalled  before  the 
expiration  of  his  government— Senatorial  intrigues— Curio  de- 
serts the  Senate— Labienus  deserts  Cassar— Cicero  in  Cilicia— 


CONTENTS  xxxi 

PAGB 

Returns  to  Rome — Pompey  determined  on  war — Cicero's  un- 
certainties— Resolution  of  the  Senate  and  consuls — Caesar 
recalled — Alarm  in  Rome — Alternative  schemes — Letters  of 
Cicero — Caesar's  crime  in  the  eyes  of  the  Optimates  .        .        .     302 

CHAPTER   XXI 

Caesar  appeals  to  his  army — The  tribunes  join  him  at  Rimini — Panic 
and  flight  of  the  Senate— Incapacity  of  Pompey — Fresh  nego- 
tiations— Advance  of  Csesar — The  country  districts  refuse  to 
arm  against  him — Capture  of  Corfinium — Release  of  the  pris- 
oners—Offers of  Caesar — Continued  hesitation  of  Cicero — Ad- 
vises Pompey  to  make  peace — Pompey  with  the  Senate  and 
consuls  flies  to  Greece — Cicero's  reflections — Pompey  to  be 
another  Sylla — Caesar  mortal,  and  may  die  by  more  means  than 
one 319 

CHAPTER  XXII 

Pompey 's  army  in  Spain — Caesar  at  Rome — Departure  for  Spain — 
Marseilles  refuses  to  receive  him — Siege  of  Marseilles — Defeat 
of  Pompey's  lieutenants  at  Lerida — The  whole  army  made  pris- 
oners— Surrender  of  Varro — Marseilles  taken — Defeat  of  Curio 
by  King  Juba  in  Africa — Caesar  named  Dictator — Confusion  in 
Rome — Caesar  at  Brindisi — Crosses  to  Greece  in  midwinter — 
Again  offers  peace — Pompey's  fleet  in  the  Adriatic — Death  of 
Bibulus — Failure  of  negotiations — Caelius  and  Milo  killed — Ar- 
rival of  Antony  in  Greece  with  the  second  divisions  of  Caesar's 
army — Siege  of  Durazzo — Defeat  and  retreat  of  Caesar — The 
Senate  and  Pompey — Pursuit  of  Caesar — Battle  of  Pharsalia — 
Flight  of  Pompey — The  camp  taken — Complete  overthrow  of 
the  Senatorial  faction — Cicero  on  the  situation  once  more        .     333 

CHAPTER   XXIII 

Pompey  flies  to  Egypt — State  of  parties  in  Egypt — Murder  of  Pom- 
pey— His  character — Caesar  follows  him  to  Alexandria — Rising  I 
in  the  city — Caesar  besieged  in  the  palace — Desperate  fighting  j 
— Arrival  of  Mithridates  of  Pergamus — Battle  near  Cairo,  and 
death  of  the  young  Ptolemy — Cleopatra — The  detention  of 
Caesar  enables  the  Optimates  to  rally — III  conduct  of  Caesar's 
officers  in  Spain — War  with  Pharnaces — Battle  of  Zela,  and 
settlement  of  Asia  Minor 360 


xxxii  FROUDE'S   "CvESAR 


CHAPTER   XXIV  ,ac 

The  aristocracy  raise  an  army  in  Africa — Supported  by  Juba — Phar- 
salia  not  to  end  the  war — Caesar  again  in  Rome — Restores 
order — Mutiny  in  Caesar's  army — The  mutineers  submit — Cassar 
lands  in  Africa— Difficulties  of  the  campaign — Battle  of  Thap- 
sus — No  more  pardons — Afranius  and  Faustus  Sylla  put  to 
death — Cato  kills  himself  at  Utica — Scipio  killed — Juba  and 
Petreius  die  on  each  other's  swords — A  scene  in  Caesar's  camp     375 

CHAPTER   XXV 

Rejoicings  in  Rome — Caesar  Dictator  for  the  year— Reforms  the 
Constitution — Reforms  the  Calendar — And  the  criminal  law — 
Dissatisfaction  of  Cicero — Last  efforts  in  Spain  of  Labienus 
and  the  young  Pompcys — C^sar  goes  thither  in  person  accom- 
panied by  Octavius — Caesar's  last  battle  at  Munda — Death  of 
Labienus — Capture  of  Cordova — Close  of  the  Civil  War — Gen- 
eral reflections 386 

CHAPTER   XXVI 

Caesar  once  more  in  Rome — General  amnesty—The  surviving  Opti- 
mates  pretend  to  submit — Increase  in  the  number  of  Senators — 
Introduction  of  foreigners — New  colonies — Carthage — Corinth 
— Sumptuary  regulations — Digest  of  the  law — Intended  Par- 
thian war — Honours  heaped  on  Caesar — The  object  of  them — 
Caesar's  indifference— Some  consolations — Hears  of  conspira- 
cies, but  disregards  them — Speculations  of  Cicero  in  the  last 
stage  of  the  war — Speech  in  the  Senate — A  contrast,  and  the 
meaning  of  it — The  Kingship — Antony  offers  Csesar  the  crown, 
which  Caesar  refuses — The  assassins — Who  they  were — Brutus 
and  Cassius — Two  officers  of  Caesar's  among  them — Warnings 
— Meeting  of  the  conspirators — Caesar's  last  evening — The  Ides 
of  March — The  Senate-house — Caesar  killed      ....    398 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

Consternation  in  Rome — The  conspirators  in  the  Capitol — Unfore- 
seen difficulties — Speech  of  Cicero — Caesar's  funeral — Speech 
of  Antony — Fury  of  the  people — The  funeral  pile  in  the  Forum 
— The  King  is  dead,  but  the  monarchy  survives — Fruitlessness 
of  the  murder— Octavius  and  Antony— Union  of  Octavius,  An- 


CONTENTS  XXxiii 

PAGE 

tony,  and  Lepidus — Proscription  of  the  assassins — Philippi,  and 
the  end  of  Brutus  and  Cassius — Death  of  Cicero — His  char- 
acter   422 

CHAPTER   XXVni 

General  remarks  on  Caesar — Mythological  tendencies — Supposed 
profligacy  of  Caesar — Nature  of  the  evidence — Servilia — Cleo- 
patra— Personal  appearance  of  Caesar — His  manners  in  private 
life — Considerations  upon  him  as  a  politician,  a  soldier,  and  a 
man  of  letters — Practical  justice  his  chief  aim  as  a  politician — 
Universality  of  military  genius — Devotion  of  his  army  to  him, 
how  deserved — Art  of  reconciling  conquered  peoples — General 
scrupulousness  and  leniency — Oratorical  and  literary  style — 
Cicero's  description  of  it — His  lost  works — Cato's  judgment  on 
the  Civil  War — How  Caesar  should  be  estimated — Legend  of 
Charles  V — Spiritual  condition  of  the  age  in  which  Caesar  lived 
— His  work  on  earth  to  establish  order  and  good  government, 
to  make  possible  the  introduction  of  Christianity — A  parallel    .    436 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 
PAGE 


James  Anthony  Froude Frontispiece 

Vercingetorix  Before  Caesar 289 

From  a  painting  by  Lionel  Royer. 

The  Forum  of  the  Empire  Restored 376 

From  a  drawing  by  E.  Becchetti. 

The  Death  of  Caesar 418 

From  a  painting  by  Jean  L^on  G^dme. 

Marc  Antony  Delivering  Caesar's  Funeral  Oration     .    426 

From  a  painting  by  Joseph  Desiri  Court. 


C/ESAR:    A  SKETCH 


CHAPTER   I 

TO  the  student  of  political  history,  and  to  the  Eng- 
lish student  above  all  others,  the  conversion  of  the 
Roman  Republic  into  a  military  empire  commands 
a  peculiar  interest.  Notwithstanding  many  differences, 
the  English  and  the  Romans  essentially  resemble  one 
another.  The  early  Romans  possessed  the  faculty  of  self- 
government  beyond  any  people  of  whom  we  have  histori- 
cal knowledge,  with  the  one  exception  of  ourselves.  In 
virtue  of  their  temporal  freedom,  they  became  the  most 
powerful  nation  in  the  known  world;  and  their  liberties 
perished  only  when  Rome  became  the  mistress  of  con- 
quered races  to  whom  she  was  unable  or  unwilling  to 
extend  her  privileges.  If  England  was  similarly  supreme, 
if  all  rival  powers  were  eclipsed  by  her  or  laid  under  her 
feet,  the  imperial  tendencies,  which  are  as  strongly  marked 
in  us  as  our  love  of  liberty,  might  lead  us  over  the  same 
course  to  the  same  end.  If  there  be  one  lesson  which 
history  teaches,  it  is  this,  that  free  nations  cannot  govern 
subject  provinces.  If  they  are  unable  or  unwilling  to 
admit  their  dependencies  to  share  their  own  constitution, 
the  constitution  itself  will  fall  in  pieces  from  mere  incom- 
petence for  its  duties. 

We  talk  often  foolishly  of  the  necessities  of  things,  and 
we  blame  circumstances  for  the  consequences  of  our  own 
follies  and  vices;  but  there  are  faults  which  are  not  faults 
of  will,  but  faults  of  mere  inadequacy  to  some  unforeseen 
position.  Human  nature  is  equal  to  much,  but  not  to 
everything.     It  can   rise  to  altitudes  where  it  is  alike 


2  JULIUS  CiESAR 

unable  to  sustain  ftself  or  to  retire  from  them  to  a  safer 
elevation.  Yet  when  the  field  is  open  it  pushes  forward, 
and  moderation  in  the  pursuit  of  greatness  is  never  learnt 
and  never  will  be  learnt.  Men  of  genius  are  governed  by 
their  instinct;  they  follow  where  instinct  leads  them;  and 
the  public  life  of  a  nation  is  but  the  life  of  successive  gen- 
erations of  statesmen,  whose  horizon  is  bounded,  and  who 
act  from  day  to  day  as  immediate  interests  suggest.  The 
popular  leader  of  the  hour  sees  some  present  difficulty  or 
present  opportunity  of  distinction.  He  deals  with  each 
question  as  it  arises,  leaving  future  consequences  to  those 
who  are  to  come  after  him.  The  situation  changes  from 
period  to  period,  and  tendencies  are  generated  with  an 
accelerating  force,  which,  when  once  established,  can  never 
be  reversed.  When  the  control  of  reason  is  once  removed, 
the  catastrophe  is  no  longer  distant,  and  then  nations,  like 
all  organized  creations,  all  forms  of  life,  from  the  meanest 
flower  to  the  highest  human  institution,  pass  through  the 
inevitably  recurring  stages  of  growth  and  transformation 
and  decay.  A  commonwealth,  says  Cicero,  ought  to  be 
immortal,  and  forever  to  renew  its  youth.  Yet  common- 
wealths have  proved  as  unenduring  as  any  other  natural 
object: 

Everything  that  grows 

Holds  in  perfection  but  a  little  moment, 
And  this  huge  state  presenteth  nought  but  shows, 

Whereon  the  stars  in  silent  influence  comment. 

Nevertheless,  "  As  the  heavens  are  high  above  the  earth, 
so  is  wisdom  above  folly."  Goethe  compares  life  to  a 
game  at  whist,  where  the  cards  are  dealt  out  by  destiny, 
and  the  rules  of  the  game  are  fixed:  subject  to  these  condi- 
tions, the  players  are  left  to  win  or  lose,  according  to  their 
skill  or  want  of  skill.  The  life  of  a  nation,  like  the  life  of 
a  man,  may  be  prolonged  in  honour  into  the  fulness  of  its 
time,  or  it  may  perish  prematurely,  for  want  of  guidance, 
by  violence  or  internal  disorders.  And  thus  the  history  of 
national  revolutions  is  to  statesmanship  what  the  pathol- 
ogy of  disease  is  to  the  art  of  medicine.     The  physician 


TEACHINGS  OF  HISTORY  3 

cannot  arrest  the  coming  on  of  age.  Where  disease  has 
laid  hold  upon  the  constitution  he  cannot  expel  it.  But 
he  may  check  the  progress  of  the  evil  if  he  can  recognise 
the  symptoms  in  time.  He  can  save  life  at  the  cost  of  an 
unsound  limb.  He  can  tell  us  how  to  preserve  our  health 
when  we  have  it;  he  can  warn  us  of  the  conditions  under 
which  particular  disorders  will  have  us  at  disadvantage. 
And  so  with  nations:  amidst  the  endless  variety  of  circum- 
stances there  are  constant  phenomena  which  give  notice 
of  approaching  danger;  there  are  courses  of  action  which 
have  uniformly  produced  the  same  results;  and  the  wise 
politicians  are  those  who  have  learnt  from  experience  the 
real  tendencies  of  things,  unmisled  by  superficial  differ- 
ences— who  can  shun  the  rocks  where  others  have  been 
wrecked,  or  from  foresight  of  what  is  coming  can  be  cool 
when  the  peril  is  upon  them. 

For  these  reasons  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Republic  is 
exceptionally  instructive  to  us.  A  constitutional  govern- 
ment the  most  enduring  and  the  most  powerful  that  ever 
existed  was  put  on  its  trial,  and  found  wanting.  We  see 
it  in  its  growth;  we  can  see  the  causes  which  undermined 
its  strength.  We  see  attempts  to  check  the  growing  mis- 
chief fail,  and  we  see  why  they  failed.  And  we  see,  finally, 
when  nothing  seemed  so  likely  as  complete  dissolution, 
the  whole  system  changed  by  a  violent  operation,  and 
the  dying  patient's  life  protracted  for  further  centuries  of 
power  and  usefulness. 

Again,  irrespective  of  the  direct  teaching  which  we  may 
gather  from  them,  particular  epochs  in  history  have  the 
charm  for  us  which  dramas  have — periods  when  the  great 
actors  on  the  stage  of  life  stand  before  us  with  the  distinct- 
ness with  which  they  appear  in  the  creations  of  a  poet. 
There  have  not  been  many  such  periods;  for,  to  see  the 
past,  it  is  not  enough  for  us  to  be  able  to  look  at  it  through 
the  eyes  of  contemporaries;  these  contemporaries  them- 
selves must  have  been  parties  to  the  scenes  which  they  de- 
scribe. They  must  have  had  full  opportunities  of  knowl- 
edge.    They  must  have  had  eyes  which  could  see  things 


4  JULIUS  CiESAR 

in  their  true  proportions.  They  must  have  had,  in  ad- 
dition, the  rare  literary  powers  which  can  convey  to  others 
through  the  medium  of  language  an  exact  picture  of  their 
own  minds;  and  such  happy  combinations  occur  but  occa- 
sionally in  thousands  of  years.  Generation  after  genera- 
tion passes  by,  and  is  crumbled  into  sand  as  rocks  are 
crumbled  by  the  sea.  Each  brought  with  it  its  heroes  and 
its  villains,  its  triumphs  and  its  sorrows;  but  the  history  is 
formless  legend,  incredible  and  unintelligible;  the  figures 
of  the  actors  are  indistinct  as  the  rude  ballad  or  ruder  in- 
scriptions which  may  be  the  only  authentic  record  of  them. 
We  do  not  see  the  men  and  women,  we  see  only  the  out- 
lines of  them  which  have  been  woven  into  tradition  as  they 
appeared  to  the  loves  or  hatreds  of  passionate  admirers  or 
enemies.  Of  such  times  we  know  nothing,  save  the  broad 
results  as  they  are  measured  from  century  to  century,  with 
here  and  there  some  indestructible  pebble,  some  law,  some 
fragment  of  remarkable  poetry  which  has  resisted  decom- 
position. These  periods  are  the  proper  subject  of  the 
philosophic  historian,  and  to  him  we  leave  them.  But 
there  are  others,  a  few,  at  which  intellectual  activity  was 
as  great  as  it  is  now,  with  its  written  records  surviving, 
in  which  the  passions,  the  opinions,  the  ambitions  of  the 
age,  are  all  before  us,  w^here  the  actors  in  the  great  drama 
speak  their  own  thoughts  in  their  own  words,  where  we 
hear  their  enemies  denounce  them  and  their  friends  praise 
them;  where  we  are  ourselves  plunged  amidst  the  hopes 
and  fears  of  the  hour,  to  feel  the  conflicting  emotions  and 
to  sympathize  in  the  struggles  which  again  seem  to  live: 
and  here  philosophy  is  at  fault.  Philosophy,  when  we  are 
face  to  face  with  real  men,  is  as  powerless  as  over  the  Iliad 
or  King  Lear.  The  overmastering  human  interest  tran- 
scends explanation.  We  do  not  sit  in  judgment  on  the 
right  or  the  wrong;  we  do  not  seek  out  causes  to  account 
for  what  takes  place,  feeling  too  conscious  of  the  inade- 
quacy of  our  analysis.  We  see  human  beings  possessed 
by  different  impulses,  and  working  out  a  preordained  re- 
sult, as  the  subtle  forces  drive  each  along  the  path  marked 


ANCIENT  AND   MODERN   CIVILIZATION  5 

out  for  him;  and  history  becomes  the  more  impressive  to 
us  where  it  least  immediately  instructs. 

With  such  vividness,  with  such  transparent  clearness  the 
age  stands  before  us  of  Cato  and  Pompey,  of  Cicero  and 
Julius  Caesar;  the  more  distinctly  because  it  was  an  age  in 
so  many  ways  the  counterpart  of  our  own,  the  blossoming 
period  of  the  old  civilization,  when  the  intellect  was  trained 
to  the  highest  point  which  it  could  reach,  and  on  the  great 
subjects  of  human  interest,  on  morals  and  politics,  on  po- 
etry and  art,  even  on  religion  itself  and  the  speculative 
problems  of  life,  men  thought  as  we  think,  doubted  where 
we  doubt,  argued  as  we  argue,  aspired  and  struggled  after 
the  same  objects.  It  was  an  age  of  material  progress  and 
material  civilization ;  an  age  of  civil  liberty  and  intellectual 
culture;  an  age  of  pamphlets  and  epigrams,  of  salons  and 
of  dinner  parties,  of  senatorial  majorities  and  electoral  cor- 
ruption. The  highest  offices  of  state  were  open  in  theory 
to  the  meanest  citizen;  they  were  confined,  in  fact,  to  those 
who  had  the  longest  purses,  or  the  most  ready  use  of  the 
tongue  on  popular  platforms.  Distinctions  of  birth  had 
been  exchanged  for  distinctions  of  wealth.  The  struggles 
between  plebeians  and  patricians  for  equality  of  privilege 
were  over,  and  a  new  division  had  been  formed  between 
the  party  of  property  and  a  party  who  desired  a  change  in 
the  structure  of  society.  The  free  cultivators  were  dis- 
appearing from  the  soil.  Italy  was  being  absorbed  into 
vast  estates,  held  by  a  few  favoured  families  and  cultivated 
by  slaves,  while  the  old  agricultural  population  was  driven 
off  the  land,  and  was  crowded  into  towns.  The  rich  were 
extravagant,  for  life  had  ceased  to  have  practical  interest, 
except  for  its  material  pleasures;  the  occupation  of  the 
higher  classes  was  to  obtain  money  without  labour,  and  to 
spend  it  in  idle  enjoyment.  Patriotism  survived  on  the 
lips,  but  patriotism  meant  the  ascendency  of  the  party 
which  would  maintain  the  existing  order  of  things,  or 
would  overthrow  it  for  a  more  equal  distribution  of  the 
good  things  which  alone  were  valued.  Religion,  once  the 
foundation  of  the  laws  and  rule  of  personal  conduct,  had 


6  JULIUS  CESAR 

subsided  into  opinions.  The  educated,  in  their  hearts,  dis- 
believed it.  Temples  were  still  built  with  increasing  splen- 
dour; the  established  forms  were  scrupulously  observed. 
Public  men  spoke  conventionally  of  Providence,  that 
they  might  throw  on  their  opponents  the  odium  of 
impiety;  but  of  genuine  belief  that  life  had  any  serious 
meaning,  there  was  none  remaining  beyond  the  circle  of 
the  silent,  patient,  ignorant  multitude.  The  whole  spirit- 
ual atmosphere  was  saturated  with  cant — cant  moral,  cant 
political,  cant  religious;  an  affectation  of  high  principle 
which  had  ceased  to  touch  the  conduct,  and  flowed  on  in 
an  increasing  volume  of  insincere  and  unreal  speech.  The 
truest  thinkers  were  those  who,  like  Lucretius,  spoke 
frankly  out  their  real  convictions,  declared  that  Providence 
was  a  dream,  and  that  man  and  the  world  he  lived  in  were 
material  phenomena,  generated  by  natural  forces  out  of 
cosmic  atoms,  and  into  atoms  to  be  again  resolved. 

Tendencies  now  in  operation  may  a  few  generations 
hence  land  modern  society  in  similar  conclusions,  unless 
other  convictions  revive  meanwhile  and  get  the  mastery  of 
them;  of  which  possibility  no  more  may  be  said  than  this, 
that  unless  there  be  such  a  revival  in  some  shape  or  other, 
the  forces,  whatever  they  be,  which  control  the  forms  in 
which  human  things  adjust  themselves,  will  make  an  end 
again,  as  they  made  an  end  before,  of  what  are  called  free 
institutions.  Popular  forms  of  government  are  possible 
only  when  individual  men  can  govern  their  own  lives  on 
moral  principles,  and  when  duty  is  of  more  importance 
than  pleasure,  and  justice  than  material  expediency. 
Rome  at  any  rate  had  grown  ripe  for  judgment.  The 
shape  which  the  judgment  assumed  was  due  perhaps,  in  a 
measure,  to  a  condition  which  has  no  longer  a  parallel 
among  us.  The  men  and  women  by  whom  the  hard  work 
of  the  world  was  done  were  chiefly  slaves,  and  those  who 
constitute  the  driving  force  of  revolutions  in  modern 
Europe  lay  then  outside  society,  unable  and  perhaps 
uncaring  to  afifect  its  fate.  No  change  then  possible  would 
much  influence  the  prospects  of  the  unhappy  bondsmen. 


ANCIENT  AND   MODERN  CIVILIZATION  7 

The  triumph  of  the  party  of  the  constitution  would  bring 
no  liberty  to  them.  That  their  masters  should  fall  like 
themselves  under  the  authority  of  a  higher  master  could 
not  much  distress  them.  Their  sympathies,  if  they  had 
any,  would  go  with  those  nearest  their  own  rank,  the 
emancipated  slaves  and  the  sons  of  those  who  were  emanci- 
pated; and  they,  and  the  poor  free  citizens  everywhere, 
were  to  a  man  on  the  side  which  was  considered  and  was 
called  the  side  of  "  the  people,"  and  was,  in  fact,  the  side 
of  Despotism. 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  Roman  Constitution  had  grown  out  of  the  char- 
acter of  the  Roman  nation.  It  was  popular  in 
form  beyond  all  constitutions  of  which  there  is  any 
record  in  history.  The  citizens  assembled  in  the  Comitia 
were  the  sovereign  authority  in  the  State,  and  they  exer- 
cised their  power  immediately  and  not  by  representatives. 
The  executive  magistrates  were  chosen  annually.  The 
assembly  was  the  supreme  Court  of  Appeal;  and  without 
its  sanction  no  freeman  could  be  lawfully  put  to  death.  In 
the  assembly  also  was  the  supreme  power  of  legislation. 
Any  consul,  any  praetor,  any  tribune,  might  propose  a  law 
from  the  Rostra  to  the  people.  The  people,  if  it  pleased 
them,  might  accept  such  law,  and  senators  and  public  offi- 
cers might  be  sworn  to  obey  it  under  pains  of  treason.  As 
a  check  on  precipitate  resolutions,  a  single  consul  or  a 
single  tribune  might  interpose  his  veto.  But  the  veto  was 
binding  only  so  long  as  the  year  of  office  continued.  If 
the  people  were  in  earnest,  submission  to  their  wishes 
could  be  made  a  condition  at  the  next  election,  and  thus 
no  constitutional  means  existed  of  resisting  them  when 
these  wishes  showed  themselves. 

In  normal  times  the  Senate  was  allowed  the  privilege  of 
preconsidering  intended  acts  of  legislation,  and  refusing 
to  recommend  them  if  inexpedient,  but  the  privilege  was 
only  converted  into  a  right  after  violent  convulsions,  and 
was  never  able  to  maintain  itself.  That  under  such  a  sys- 
tem the  functions  of  government  could  have  been  carried 
on  at  all  was  due  entirely  to  the  habits  of  self-restraint 
which  the  Romans  had  engraved  into  their  nature.  They 
were  called  a  nation  of  kings — kings  over  their  own  appe- 
tites, passions,  and  inclinations.  They  were  not  imagina- 
tive, they  were  not  intellectual;  they  had  little  national 


RELIGIOUS   IDEAS  9 

poetry,  little  art,  little  philosophy.  They  were  moral  and 
practical.  In  these  two  directions  the  force  that  was  in 
them  entirely  ran.  They  were  free  politically,  because 
freedom  meant  to  them,  not  freedom  to  do  as  they  pleased, 
but  freedom  to  do  what  was  right;  and  every  citizen,  be- 
fore he  arrived  at  his  civil  privileges,  had  been  schooled'  in 
the  discipline  of  obedience.  Each  head  of  a  household 
was  absolute  master  of  it,  master  over  his  children  and 
servants,  even  to  the  extent  of  life  and  death.  What  the 
father  was  to  the  family,  the  gods  were  to  the  whole  peo- 
ple, the  awful  lords  and  rulers  at  whose  pleasure  they  lived 
and  breathed.  Unlike  the  Greeks,  the  reverential  Romans 
invented  no  idle  legends  about  the  supernatural  world. 
The  gods  to  them  were  the  guardians  of  the  State,  whose 
will  in  all  things  they  were  bound  to  seek  and  to  obey. 
The  forms  in  which  they  endeavoured  to  learn  what  that 
will  might  be  were  childish  or  childHke.  They  looked  to 
signs  in  the  sky,  to  thunderstorms  and  comets  and  shoot- 
ing stars.  Birds,  winged  messengers,  as  they  thought 
them,  between  earth  and  heaven,  were  celestial  indicators 
of  the  gods'  commands.  But  omens  and  auguries  were 
but  the  outward  symbols,  and  the  Romans,  like  all  serious 
peoples,  went  to  their  own  hearts  for  their  real  guidance. 
They  had  a  unique  religious  peculiarity,  to  which  no  race 
of  men  has  produced  anything  like.  They  did  not  embody 
the  elemental  forces  in  personal  forms;  they  did  not  fashion 
a  theology  out  of  the  movements  of  the  sun  and  stars  or 
the  changes  of  the  seasons.  Traces  may  be  found  among 
them  of  cosmic  traditions  and  superstitions,  which  were 
common  to  all  the  world;  but  they  added  of  their  own 
this  especial  feature:  that  they  built  temples  and  offered 
sacrifices  to  the  highest  human  excellences,  to  "  Val- 
our," to  "  Truth,"  to  "  Good  Faith,"  to  "  Modesty,"  to 
"  Charity,"  to  "  Concord."  In  these  qualities  lay  all  that 
raised  man  above  the  animals  with  which  he  had  so  much 
in  common.  In  them,  therefore,  were  to  be  found  the  link 
which  connected  him  with  the  Divine  nature,  and  moral 
quahties  were  regarded  as  Divine  influences  which  gave 


lO  JULIUS  CiESAR 

his  life  its  meaning  and  its  worth.  The  "  Virtues  "  were 
elevated  into  beings  to  whom  disobedience  could  be  pun- 
ished as  a  crime,  and  the  superstitious  fears  which  run  so 
often  into  mischievous  idolatries  were  enlisted  with  con- 
science in  the  direct  service  of  right  action. 

On  the  same  principle  the  Romans  chose  the  heroes  and 
heroines  of  their  national  history.  The  Manlii  and  Valerii 
were  patterns  of  courage,  the  Lucretias  and  Virginias  of 
purity,  the  Decii  and  Curtii  of  patriotic  devotion,  the 
Reguli  and  Fabricii  of  stainless  truthfulness.  On  the  same 
principle,  too,  they  had  a  pubHc  officer  whose  functions 
resembled  those  of  the  Church  courts  in  mediaeval  Europe, 
a  Censor  Morum,  an  inquisitor  who  might  examine  into 
the  habits  of  private  families,  rebuke  extravagance,  check 
luxury,  punish  vice  and  self-indulgence,  nay,  who  could 
remove  from  the  Senate,  the  great  council  of  elders,  per- 
sons whose  moral  conduct  was  a  reproach  to  a  body  on 
whose  reputation  no  shadow  could  be  allowed  to  rest. 

Such  the  Romans  were  in  the  day  when  their  dominion 
had  not  extended  beyond  the  limits  of  Italy;  and  because 
they  were  such  they  were  able  to  prosper  under  a  constitu- 
tion which  to  modern  experience  would  promise  only  the 
most  hopeless  confusion. 

Morality  thus  ingrained  in  the  national  character  and 
grooved  into  habits  of  action  creates  strength,  as  nothing 
else  creates  it.  The  difficulty  of  conduct  does  not  lie  in 
knowing  what  it  is  right  to  do,  but  in  doing  it  when 
known.  Intellectual  culture  does  not  touch  the  con- 
science. It  provides  no  motives  to  overcome  the  weak- 
ness of  the  will,  and  with  wider  knowledge  it  brings  also 
new  temptations.  The  sense  of  duty  is  present  in  each 
detail  of  life;  the  obligatory  "  must,"  which  binds  the  will 
to  the  course  which  right  principle  has  marked  out  for  it, 
produces  a  fibre  like  the  fibre  of  the  oak.  The  educated 
Greeks  knew  little  of  it.  They  had  courage,  and  genius, 
and  enthusiasm,  but  they  had  no  horror  of  immorality  as 
such.  The  Stoics  saw  what  was  wanting,  and  tried  to  sup- 
ply it;  but  though  they  could  provide  a  theory  of  action, 


MORALITY  II 

they  could  not  make  the  theory  into  a  reality,  and  it  is 
noticeable  that  Stoicism  as  a  rule  of  life  became  impor- 
tant only  when  adopted  by  the  Romans.  The  Catholic 
Church  effected  something  in  its  better  days  when  it  had 
its  courts  which  treated  sins  as  crimes.  Calvinism,  while 
it  was  believed,  produced  characters  nobler  and  grander 
than  any  which  Republican  Rome  produced.  But  the 
Catholic  Church  turned  its  penances  into  money  pay- 
ments. Calvinism  made  demands  on  faith  beyond  what 
truth  could  bear,  and  when  doubt  had  once  entered,  the 
spell  of  Calvinism  was  broken.  The  veracity  of  the  Ro- 
mans, and  perhaps  the  happy  accident  that  they  had  no 
inherited  religious  traditions,  saved  them  for  centuries 
from  similar  trials.  They  had  hold  of  real  truth  unalloyed 
with  baser  metal;  and  truth  had  made  them  free  and  kept 
them  so.  When  all  else  has  passed  away,  when  theologies 
have  yielded  up  their  real  meaning,  and  creeds  and  symbols 
have  become  transparent,  and  man  is  again  in  contact  with 
the  hard  facts  of  nature,  it  will  be  found  that  the  **  Virtues  " 
which  the  Romans  made  into  gods  contain  in  them  the 
essence  of  true  religion,  that  in  them  lies  the  special  char- 
acteristic which  distinguishes  human  beings  from  the  rest 
of  animated  things.  Every  other  creature  exists  for  itself, 
and  cares  for  its  own  preservation.  Nothing  larger  or 
better  is  expected  from  it  or  possible  to  it.  To  man  it  is 
said,  you  do  not  live  for  yourself.  If  you  live  for  yourself 
you  shall  come  to  nothing.  Be  brave,  be  just,  be  pure,  be 
true  in  word  and  deed;  care  not  for  your  enjoyment,  care 
not  for  your  life;  care  only  for  what  is  right.  So,  and 
not  otherwise,  it  shall  be  well  with  you.  So  the  Maker 
of  you  has  ordered,  whom  you  will  disobey  at  your 
peril. 

Thus,  and  thus  only,  are  nations  formed  which  are  des- 
tined to  endure;  and  as  habits  based  on  such  convictions 
are  slow  in  growing,  so  when  grown  to  maturity  they  sur- 
vive extraordinary  trials.  But  nations  are  made  up  of 
many  persons  in  circumstances  of  endless  variety.  In 
country   districts,    where   the   routine   of   life   continues 


12  JULIUS  CiESAR 

simple,  the  type  of  character  remains  unaffected;  genera- 
tion follows  on  generation  exposed  to  the  same  influences 
and  treading  in  the  same  steps.  But  the  moraHty  of  habit, 
though  the  most  important  element  in  human  conduct,  is 
still  but  a  part  of  it.  Moral  habits  grow  under  given  con- 
ditions. They  correspond  to  a  given  degree  of  tempta- 
tion. When  men  are  removed  into  situations  where  the 
use  and  wont  of  their  fathers  no  longer  meets  their  neces- 
sities; where  new  opportunities  are  offered  to  them;  where 
their  opinions  are  broken  in  upon  by  new  ideas;  where 
pleasures  tempt  them  on  every  side,  and  they  have  but  to 
stretch  out  their  hand  to  take  them;  moral  habits  yield 
under  the  strain,  and  they  have  no  other  resource  to  fall 
back  upon.  Intellectual  cultivation  brings  with  it  rational 
interests.  Knowledge,  which  looks  before  and  after,  acts 
as  a  restraining  power,  to  help  conscience  when  it  flags. 
The  sober  and  wholesome  manners  of  life  among  the  early 
Romans  had  given  them  vigorous  minds  in  vigorous 
bodies.  The  animal  nature  had  grown  as  strongly  as  the 
moral  nature,  and  along  with  it  the  animal  appetites;  and 
when  appetites  burst  their  traditionary  restraints,  and  man 
in  himself  has  no  other  notion  of  enjoyment  beyond  bodily 
pleasure,  he  may  pass  by  an  easy  transition  into  a  mere 
powerful  brute.  And  thus  it  happened  with  the  higher 
classes  at  Rome  after  the  destruction  of  Carthage.  Italy 
had  fallen  to  them  by  natural  and  wholesome  expansion; 
but  from  being  sovereigns  of  Italy,  they  became  a  race  of 
imperial  conquerors.  Suddenly,  and  in  comparatively  a 
few  years  after  the  one  power  was  gone  which  could 
resist  them,  they  became  the  actual  or  virtual  rulers  of  the 
entire  circuit  of  the  Mediterranean.  The  southeast  of 
Spain,  the  coast  of  France  from  the  Pyrenees  to  Nice,  the 
north  of  Italy,  Illyria  and  Greece,  Sardinia,  Sicily,  and  the 
Greek  islands,  the  southern  and  western  shores  of  Asia 
Minor,  were  Roman  provinces,  governed  directly  under 
Roman  magistrates.  On  the  African  side  Mauritania 
(Morocco)  was  still  free.  Numidia  (the  modern  Algeria) 
retained  its  native  dynasty,  but  was  a  Roman  dependency. 


EXPANSION  OF   ROMAN   POWER  1 3 

The  Carthaginian  dominions,  Tunis  and  Tripoli,  had  been 
annexed  to  the  Empire.  The  interior  of  Asia  Minor  up  to 
the  Euphrates,  with  Syria  and  Egypt,  were  under  sover- 
eigns called  Allies,  but,  like  the  native  princes  in  India, 
subject  to  a  Roman  protectorate.  Over  this  enormous 
territory,  rich  with  the  accumulated  treasures  of  centuries, 
and  inhabited  by  thriving,  industrious  races,  the  energetic 
Roman  men  of  business  had  spread  and  settled  themselves, 
gathering  into  their  hands  the  trade,  the  financial  adminis- 
tration, the  entire  commercial  control  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean basin.  They  had  been  trained  in  thrift  and  economy, 
in  abhorrence  of  debt,  in  strictest  habits  of  close  and  care- 
ful management.  Their  frugal  education,  their  early  les- 
sons in  the  value  of  money,  good  and  excellent  as  those 
lessons  were,  led  them,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  turn  to 
account  their  extraordinary  opportunities.  Governors 
with  their  staffs,  permanent  officials,  contractors  for  the 
revenue,  negotiators,  bill-brokers,  bankers,  merchants, 
were  scattered  everywhere  in  thousands.  Money  poured 
in  upon  them  in  rolling  streams  of  gold.  The  largest  share 
of  the  spoils  fell  to  the  Senate  and  the  senatorial  families. 
The  Senate  was  the  permanent  Council  of  State,  and  was 
the  real  administrator  of  the  Empire.  The  Senate  had  the 
control  of  the  treasury,  conducted  the  public  policy,  ap- 
pointed from  its  own  ranks  the  governors  of  the  provinces. 
It  was  patrician  in  sentiment,  but  not  necessarily  patrician 
in  composition.  The  members  of  it  had  virtually  been 
elected  for  life  by  the  people,  and  were  almost  entirely 
those  who  had  been  quaestors,  sediles,  praetors,  or  consuls; 
and  these  offices  had  been  long  open  to  the  plebeians.  It 
was  an  aristocracy,  in  theory  a  real  one,  but  tending  to 
become,  as  civilization  went  forward,  an  aristocracy  of  the 
rich.  How  the  senatorial  privileges  affected  the  man- 
agement of  the  provinces  will  be  seen  more  particularly  a? 
we  go  on.  It  is  enough  at  present  to  say  that  the  nobles 
and  great  commoners  of  Rome  rapidly  found  themselves 
in  possession  of  revenues  which  their  fathers  could  not 
have  imagined  in  their  dreams,  and  money,  in  the  stage  of 


14  JULIUS  CESAR 

progress  at  which  Rome  had  arrived,  was  convertible  into 
power. 

The  opportunities  opened  for  men  to  advance  their  for- 
tunes in  other  parts  of  the  world  drained  Italy  of  many  of 
its  most  enterprising  citizens.  The  grandsons  of  the  yeo- 
men who  had  held  at  bay  Pyrrhus  and  Hannibal  sold  their 
farms  and  went  away.  The  small  holdings  merged  rapidly 
into  large  estates  bought  up  by  the  Roman  capitahsts.  At 
the  final  settlement  of  Italy,  some  millions  of  acres  had 
been  reserved  to  the  State  as  public  property.  The  *'  pub- 
lic land,"  as  the  reserved  portion  was  called,  had  been 
leased  on  easy  terms  to  families  with  political  influence, 
and  by  lapse  of  time,  by  connivance  and  right  of  occupa- 
tion, these  families  were  beginning  to  regard  their  tenures 
as  their  private  property,  and  to  treat  them  as  lords  of 
manors  in  England  have  treated  the  *'  commons."  Thus 
everywhere  the  small  farmers  were  disappearing,  and  the 
soil  of  Italy  was  fast  passing  into  the  hands  of  a  few  terri- 
torial magnates,  who,  unfortunately  (for  it  tended  to 
aggravate  the  mischief),  were  enabled  by  another  cause  to 
turn  their  vast  possessions  to  advantage.  The  conquest 
of  the  world  had  turned  the  flower  of  the  defeated  nations 
into  slaves.  The  prisoners  taken  either  after  a  battle,  or 
when  cities  surrendered  unconditionally,  were  bought  up 
steadily  by  contractors  who  followed  in  the  rear  of  the 
Roman  armies.  They  were  not  ignorant  like  the  negroes, 
but  trained,  useful,  and  often  educated  men, — Asiatics, 
Greeks,  Thracians,  Gauls,  and  Spaniards, — able  at  once  to 
turn  their  hands  to  some  form  of  skilled  labour,  either  as 
clerks,  mechanics,  or  farm  servants.  The  great  land- 
owners might  have  paused  in  their  purchases  had  the 
alternative  lain  before  them  of  letting  their  lands  lie  idle 
or  of  having  freemen  to  cultivate  them.  It  was  otherwise 
when  a  resource  so  convenient  and  so  abundant  was 
opened  at  their  feet.  The  wealthy  Romans  bought  j^laves 
by  thousands.  Some  they  employed  in  their  workshops 
in  the  capital.  Some  they  spread  over  their  plantations, 
covering  the  country,  it  might  be,  with  olive  gardens  and 


EFFECTS  OF  SLAVERY  1 5 

vineyards,  swelling  further  the  plethoric  figures  of  their 
owners'  incomes.  It  was  convenient  for  the  few,  but  less 
convenient  for  the  Commonwealth.  The  strength  of 
Rome  was  in  her  free  citizens.  Where  a  family  of  slaves 
was  settled  down,  a  village  of  freemen  had  disappeared; 
the  material  for  the  legions  diminished;  the  dregs  of  the 
free  population  which  remained  behind  crowded  into 
Rome,  without  occupation,  except  in  politics,  and  with  no 
property  save  in  their  votes,  of  course  to  become  the  cli- 
ents of  the  millionaires,  and  to  sell  themselves  to  the  high- 
est bidders.  With  all  his  wealth  there  were  but  two  things 
which  the  Roman  noble  could  buy, — political  power  and 
luxury, — and  in  these  directions  his  whole  resources  were 
expended.  The  elections,  once  pure,  became  matters  of 
annual  bargain  between  himself  and  his  supporters.  The 
once  hardy,  abstemious  mode  of  living  degenerated  into 
grossness  and  sensuality. 

And  his  character  was  assailed  simultaneously  on  an- 
other side  with  equally  mischievous  effect.  The  conquest 
of  Greece  brought  to  Rome  a  taste  for  knowledge  and  cul- 
ture; but  the  culture  seldom  passed  below  the  surface,  and 
knowledge  bore  but  the  old  fruit  which  it  had  borne  in 
Eden.  The  elder  Cato  used  to  say  that  the  Romans  were 
like  their  slaves — the  less  Greek  they  knew  the  better  they 
were.  They  had  beUeved  in  the  gods  with  pious  sim- 
plicity. The  Greeks  introduced  them  to  an  Olympus  of 
divinities  whom  the  practical  Roman  found  that  he  must 
either  abhor  or  deny  to  exist.  The  "  Virtues  "  which  he 
had  been  taught  to  reverence  had  no  place  among  the 
graces  of  the  new  theology.  Reverence  Jupiter  he  could 
not,  and  it  was  easy  to  persuade  him  that  Jupiter  was  an 
illusion;  that  all  religions  were  but  the  creations  of  fancy, 
his  own  among  them.  Gods  there  might  be,  airy  beings 
in  the  deeps  of  space,  engaged  like  men  with  their  own 
enjoyments;  but  to  suppose  that  these  high  spirits  fretted 
themselves  with  the  affairs  of  the  puny  beings  that  crawled 
upon  the  earth  was  a  delusion  of  vanity.  Thus,  while  mo- 
rality was  assailed  on  one  side  by  extraordinary  tempta- 


l6  JULIUS  C^SAR 

tions,  the  religious  sanction  of  it  was  undermined  on  the 
other.  The  Romans  ceased  to  beheve,  and  in  losing  their 
faith  they  became  as  steel  becomes  when  it  is  demagnet- 
ized: the  spiritual  quahty  was  gone  out  of  them,  and  the 
high  society  of  Rome  itself  became  a  society  of  powerful 
animals  with  an  enormous  appetite  for  pleasure.  Wealth 
poured  in  more  and  more,  and  luxury  grew  more  un- 
bounded. Palaces  sprang  up  in  the  city,  castles  in  the 
country,  villas  at  pleasant  places  by  the  sea,  and  parks,  and 
fish-ponds,  and  game  preserves,  and  gardens,  and  vast 
retinues  of  servants.  When  natural  pleasures  had  been 
indulged  in  to  satiety,  pleasures  which  were  against  nature 
were  imported  from  the  East  to  stimulate  the  exhausted 
appetite.  To  make  money — money  by  any  means,  lawful 
or  unlawful — became  the  universal  passion.  Even  the 
most  cultivated  patricians  were  coarse  alike  in  their  habits 
and  their  amusements.  They  cared  for  art  as  dilettanti, 
but  no  schools  either  of  sculpture  or  painting  were  formed 
among  themselves.  They  decorated  their  porticoes  and 
their  saloons  with  the  plunder  of  the  East.  The  stage 
was  never  more  than  an  artificial  taste  with  them;  their 
delight  was  the  delight  of  barbarians,  in  spectacles,  in  ath- 
letic exercises,  in  horse-races  and  chariot  races,  in  the 
combats  of  wild  animals  in  the  circus,  combats  of  men 
with  beasts  on  choice  occasions,  and,  as  a  rare  excitement, 
in  fights  between  men  and  men,  when  select  slaves  trained 
as  gladiators  were  matched  in  pairs  to  kill  each  other. 
Moral  habits  are  all-sufificient  while  they  last;  but  with 
rude,  strong  natures  they  are  but  chains  which  hold  the 
passions  prisoners.  Let  the  clfkin  break,  and  the  released 
brute  is  but  the  more  powerful  for  evil  from  the  force  which 
his  constitution  has  inherited.  Money!  the  cry  was  still 
money! — money  was  the  one  thought  from  the  highest 
senator  to  the  poorest  wretch  who  sold  his  vote  in  the 
Comitia.  For  money  judges  gave  unjust  decrees  and 
juries  gave  corrupt  verdicts.  Governors  held  their  prov- 
inces for  one,  two,  or  three  years;  they  went  out  bankrupt 
from  extravagance,  they  returned  with  millions  for  fresh 


CORRUPTION   OF  THE  NOBLES  1 7 

riot.  To  obtain  a  province  was  the  first  ambition  of  a  Ro- 
man noble.  The  road  to  it  lay  through  the  praetorship 
and  the  consulship;  these  offices,  therefore,  became  the 
prizes  of  the  State;  and  being  in  the  gift  of  the  people,  they 
were  sought  after  by  means  which  demoralized  alike  the 
givers  and  the  receivers.  The  elections  were  managed  by 
clubs  and  coteries;  and,  except  on  occasions  of  national 
danger  or  political  excitement,  those  who  spent  most 
freely  were  most  certain  of  success. 

Under  these  conditions  the  chief  powers  in  the  Com- 
monwealth necessarily  centred  in  the  rich.  There  was  no 
longer  an  aristocracy  of  birth,  still  less  of  virtue.  The  pa- 
trician families  had  the  start  in  the  race.  Great  names 
and  great  possessions  came  to  them  by  inheritance.  But 
the  door  of  promotion  was  open  to  all  who  had  the  golden 
key.  The  great  commoners  bought  their  way  into  the 
magistracies.  From  the  magistracies  they  passed  into  the 
Senate;  and  the  Roman  senator,  though  in  Rome  itself 
and  in  free  debate  among  his  colleagues  he  was  handled 
as  an  ordinary  man,  when  he  travelled  had  the  honours  of 
a  sovereign.  The  three  hundred  senators  of  Rome  were 
three  hundred  princes.  They  moved  about  in  other  coun- 
tries with  the  rights  of  legates,  at  the  expense  of  the  prov- 
ince, with  their  trains  of  slaves  and  horses.  The  proud 
privilege  of  Roman  citizenship  was  still  jealously  reserved 
to  Rome  itself  and  to  a  few  favoured  towns  and  colonies; 
and  a  mere  subject  could  maintain  no  rights  against  a 
member  of  the  haughty  oligarchy  which  controlled  the 
civilized  world.  Such  generally  the  Roman  Republic  had 
become,  or  was  tending  to  become,  in  the  years  which 
followed  the  fall  of  Carthage,  B.  C.  146.  Public  spirit  in 
the  masses  was  dead  or  sleeping;  the  Commonwealth  was  a 
plutocracy.  The  free  forms  of  the  constitution  were  them- 
selves the  instruments  of  corruption.  The  rich  were  happy 
in  the  possession  of  all  that  they  could  desire.  The  multi- 
tude was  kept  quiet  by  the  morsels  of  meat  which  were 
flung  to  it  when  it  threatened  to  be  troublesome.     The 

seven  thousand  in  Israel,  the  few  who  in  all  states  and  in 
2 


1 8  JULIUS  CiESAR 

all  times  remain  pure  in  the  midst  of  evil,  looked  on  with 
disgust,  fearing  that  any  remedy  which  they  might  try 
might  be  worse  than  the  disease.  All  orders  in  a  society 
may  be  wise  and  virtuous,  but  all  cannot  be  rich.  Wealth 
which  is  used  only  for  idle  luxury  is  always  envied,  and 
envy  soon  curdles  into  hate.  It  is  easy  to  persuade  the 
masses  that  the  good  things  of  this  world  are  unjustly  di- 
vided, especially  when  it  happens  to  be  the  exact  truth. 
It  is  not  easy  to  set  limits  to  an  agitation  once  set  on  foot, 
however  justly  it  may  have  been  provoked,  when  the  cry 
for  change  is  at  once  stimulated  by  interest  and  can  dis- 
guise its  real  character  under  the  passionate  language  of 
patriotism.  But  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that  men  of 
noble  natures,  young  men  especially  whose  enthusiasm 
had  not  been  cooled  by  experience,  would  sit  calmly  by 
while  their  country  was  going  thus  headlong  to  perdition. 
Redemption,  if  redemption  was  to  be  hoped  for,  could 
come  only  from  free  citizens  in  the  country  districts  whose 
manners  and  whose  minds  were  still  uncontaminated,  in 
whom  the  ancient  habits  of  life  still  survived,  who  still  be- 
lieved in  the  gods,  who  were  contented  to  follow  the 
wholesome  round  of  honest  labour.  The  numbers  of  such 
citizens  were  fast  dwindling  away  before  the  omnivorous 
appetite  of  the  rich  for  territorial  aggrandizement.  To 
rescue  the  land  from  the  monopolists,  to  renovate  the  old 
independent  yeomanry,  to  prevent  the  free  population  of 
Italy,  out  of  which  the  legions  had  been  formed  which  had 
built  up  the  Empire,  from  being  pushed  out  of  their  places 
and  supplanted  by  foreign  slaves — this,  if  it  could  be  done, 
would  restore  the  purity  of  the  constituency,  snatch  the 
elections  from  the  control  of  corruption,  and  rear  up  fresh 
generations  of  peasant  soldiers  to  preserve  the  liberties  and 
the  glories  which  their  fathers  had  won. 


CHAPTER  III 

TIBERIUS  GRACCHUS  was  born  about  the  year 
164  B.  C.  He  was  one  of  twelve  children,  nine  of 
whom  died  in  infancy;  himself,  his  brother  Caius, 
and  his  sister  Cornelia  being  the  only  survivors.  His 
family  was  plebeian,  but  of  high  antiquity,  his  ancestors 
for  several  generations  having  held  the  highest  offices  in 
the  Republic.  On  the  mother's  side  he  was  the  grandson 
of  Scipio  Africanus.  His  father,  after  a  distinguished 
career  as  a  soldier  in  Spain  and  Sardinia,  had  attempted 
reforms  at  Rome.  He  had  been  censor,  and  in  this  ca- 
pacity he  had  ejected  disreputable  senators  from  the  Curia; 
he  had  degraded  offending  Equites;  he  had  rearranged  and 
tried  to  purify  the  Comitia.  But  his  connections  were 
aristocratic.  His  wife  was  the  daughter  of  the  most  illus- 
trious of  the  Scipios.  His  own  daughter  was  married  to 
the  second  most  famous  of  them,  Scipio  Africanus  the 
Younger.  He  had  been  himself  in  antagonism  with  the 
tribunes,  and  had  taken  no  part  at  any  time  in  popular 
agitations. 

The  father  died  when  Tiberius  was  still  a  boy,  and  the 
two  brothers  grew  up  under  the  care  of  their  mother,  a 
noble  and  gifted  lady.  They  displayed  early  remarkable 
talents.  Tiberius,  when  old  enough,  went  into  the  army, 
and  served  under  his  brother-in-law  in  the  last  Carthagin- 
ian campaign.  He  was  first  on  the  walls  of  the  city  in  the 
final  storm.  Ten  years  later  he  went  to  Spain  as  Quaes- 
tor, where  he  carried  on  his  father's  popularity,  and  by 
taking  the  people's  side  in  some  questions  fell  into  disa- 
greement with  his  brother-in-law.  His  political  views  had 
perhaps  already  inclined  to  change.  He  was  still  of  an 
age  when  indignation  at  oppression  calls  out  a  practical 
desire  to  resist  it.  On  his  journey  home  from  Spain  he 
witnessed  scenes  which  confirmed  his  conviction  and  de- 

19 


20  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  164-122 

termined  him  to  throw  all  his  energies  into  the  popular 
cause.  His  road  lay  through  Tuscany,  where  he  saw  the 
large-estate  system  in  full  operation — the  fields  cultivated 
by  the  slave  gangs,  the  free  citizens  of  the  Republic  thrust 
away  into  the  towns,  aliens  and  outcasts  in  their  own 
country,  without  a  foot  of  soil  which  they  could  call  their 
own.  In  Tuscany,  too,  the  vast  domains  of  the  landlords 
had  not  even  been  fairly  purchased.  They  were  parcels  of 
the  ager  publicus,  land  belonging  to  the  State,  which,  in 
spite  of  a  law  forbidding  it,  th*e  great  lords  and  commoners 
had  appropriated  and  divided  among  themselves.  Five 
hundred  acres  of  State  land  was  the  most  which  by  statute 
any  one  lessee  might  be  allowed  to  occupy.  But  the  law 
w^as  obsolete  or  sleeping,  and  avarice  and  vanity  were 
awake  and  active.  Young  Gracchus,  in  indignant  pity, 
resolved  to  rescue  the  people's  patrimony.  He  was 
chosen  tribune  in  the  year  133.  His  brave  mother  and  a 
few  patricians  of  the  old  type  encouraged  him,  and  the 
battle  of  the  revolution  began.  The  Senate,  as  has  been 
said,  though  without  direct  legislative  authority,  had  been 
allowed  the  right  of  reviewing  any  new  schemes  which 
were  to  be  submitted  to  the  assembly.  The  constitutional 
means  of  preventing  tribunes  from  carrying  unwise  or  un- 
welcome measures  lay  in  a  consul's  veto,  or  in  the  help  of 
the  College  of  Augurs,  who  could  declare  the  auspices 
unfavourable,  and  so  close  all  public  business.  These  re- 
sources were  so  awkward  that  it  had  been  found  conven- 
ient to  secure  beforehand  the  Senate's  approbation,  and 
the  encroachment,  being  long  submitted  to,  was  passing 
by  custom  into  a  rule.  But  the  Senate,  eager  as  it  was, 
had  not  yet  succeeded  in  engrafting  the  practice  into  the 
constitution.  On  the  land  question  the  leaders  of  the 
aristocracy  were  the  principal  offenders.  Disregarding 
usage,  and  conscious  that  the  best  men  of  all  ranks  were 
with  him,  Tiberius  Gracchus  appealed  directly  to  the  peo- 
ple to  revive  the  Agrarian  law.  His  proposals  were  not 
extravagant.  That  they  should  have  been  deemed  extrav- 
agant was  a  proof  of  how  much  some  measure  of  the  kind 


B.C.  164-122]  THE  GRACCHI  21 

was  needed.  Where  lands  had  been  inclosed  and  money 
laid  out  on  them  he  was  willing  that  the  occupants  should 
have  compensation.  But  they  had  no  right  to  the  lands 
themselves.  Gracchus  persisted  that  the  ager  publicus  be- 
longed to  the  people,  and  that  the  race  of  yeomen,  for 
whose  protection  the  law  had  been  originally  passed,  must 
be  re-established  on  their  farms.  No  form  of  property 
gives  to  its  owners  so  much  consequence  as  land,  and  there 
is  no  point  on  which  in  every  country  an  aristocracy  is 
more  sensitive.  The  large  owners  protested  that  they  had 
purchased  their  interests  on  the  faith  that  the  law  was  ob- 
solete. They  had  planted  and  built  and  watered  with  the 
sanction  of  the  Government,  and  to  call  their  titles  in  ques- 
tion was  to  shake  the  foundations  of  society.  The  popular 
party  pointed  to  the  statute.  The  monopolists  were  en- 
titled in  justice  to  less  than  was  offered  them.  They  had 
no  right  to  a  compensation  at  all.  Political  passion  awoke 
again  after  the  sleep  of  a  century.  The  oligarchy  had 
doubtless  connived  at  the  accumulations.  The  suppression 
of  the  small  holdings  favoured  their  supremacy,  and  placed 
the  elections  more  completely  in  their  control.  Their  mili- 
tary successes  had  given  them  so  long  a  tenure  of  power 
that  they  had  believed  it  to  be  theirs  in  perpetuity;  and  the 
new  sedition,  as  they  called  it,  threatened  at  once  their 
privileges  and  their  fortunes.  The  quarrel  assumed  the 
familiar  form  of  a  struggle  between  the  rich  and  the  poor, 
and  at  such  times  the  mob  of  voters  becomes  less  easy  to 
corrupt.  They  go  with  their  order,  as  the  prospect  of  a 
larger  gain  makes  them  indifferent  to  immediate  bribes. 
It  became  clear  that  the  majority  of  the  citizens  would 
support  Tiberius  Gracchus,  but  the  constitutional  forms 
of  opposition  might  still  be  resorted  to.  Octavius  Caecina, 
another  of  the  tribunes,  had  himself  large  interests  in  the 
land  question.  He  was  the  people's  magistrate,  one  of  the 
body  appointed  especially  to  defend  their  rights,  but  he 
went  over  to  the  Senate,  and,  using  a  power  which  un- 
doubtedly belonged  to  him,  he  forbade  the  vote  to  be 
taken. 


22  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  164-122 

There  was  no  precedent  for  the  removal  of  either  con- 
sul, praetor,  or  tribune,  except  under  circumstances  very 
different  from  any  which  could  as  yet  be  said  to  have 
arisen.  The  magistrates  held  office  for  a  year  only,  and 
the  power  of  veto  had  been  allowed  them  expressly  to 
secure  time  for  deliberation  and  to  prevent  passionate 
legislation.  But  Gracchus  was  young  and  enthusiastic. 
Precedent  or  no  precedent,  the  citizens  were  omnipotent. 
He  invited  them  to  declare  his  colleague  deposed.  They 
had  warmed  to  the  fight  and  complied.  A  more  experi- 
enced statesman  would  have  known  that  established  con- 
stitutional bulwarks  cannot  be  swept  away  by  a  momen- 
tary vote.  He  obtained  his  Agrarian  law.  Three  commis- 
sioners were  appointed — himself,  his  younger  brother,  and 
his  father-in-law,  Appius  Claudius — to  carry  it  into  effect; 
but  the  very  names  showed  that  he  had  alienated  his  few 
supporters  in  the  higher  circles,  and  that  a  single  family 
was  now  contending  against  the  united  wealth  and  distinc- 
tion of  Rome.  The  issue  was  only  too  certain.  Popular 
enthusiasm  is  but  a  fire  of  straw.  In  a  year  Tiberius 
Gracchus  would  be  out  of  office.  Other  tribunes  would 
be  chosen  more  amenable  to  influence,  and  his  work  would 
then  be  undone.  He  evidently  knew  that  those  who 
would  succeed  him  could  not  be  relied  on  to  carry  on  his 
policy.  He  had  taken  one  revolutionary  step  already;  he 
was  driven  on  to  another,  and  he  offered  himself  illegally 
to  the  Comitia  for  re-election.  It  was  to  invite  them  to 
abolish  the  constitution  and  to  make  him  virtual  sovereign; 
and  that  a  young  man  of  thirty  should  have  contemplated 
such  a  position  for  himself  as  possible  is  of  itself  a  proof  of 
his  unfitness  for  it.  The  election  day  came.  The  noble 
lords  and  gentlemen  appeared  in  the  Campus  Martins  with 
their  retinues  of  armed  servants  and  clients;  hot-blooded 
aristocrats,  full  of  disdain  for  demagogues,  and  meaning 
to  read  a  lesson  to  sedition  which  it  would  not  easily  for- 
get. Votes  were  given  for  Gracchus.  Had  the  hustings 
been  left  to  decide  the  matter,  he  would  have  been  chosen; 
but  as  it  began  to  appear  how  the  polling  would  go,  sticks 


B.  c.  164-122]  THE  GRACCHI  2$ 

were  used  and  swords;  a  riot  rose,  the  unarmed  citizens 
were  driven  off,  Tiberius  Gracchus  himself  and  three  hun- 
dred of  his  friends  were  killed  and  their  bodies  were  flung 
into  the  Tiber. 

Thus  the  first  sparks  of  the  coming  revolution  were 
trampled  out.  But  though  quenched  and  to  be  again 
quenched  with  fiercer  struggles,  it  was  to  smoulder  and 
smoke  and  burst  out  time  after  time,  till  its  work  was  done. 
Revolution  could  not  restore  the  ancient  character  of  the 
Roman  nation,  but  it  could  check  the  progress  of  decay 
by  burning  away  the  more  corrupted  parts  of  it.  It  could 
destroy  the  aristocracy  and  the  constitution  which  they  had 
depraved,  and  under  other  forms  preserve  for  a  few  more 
centuries  the  Roman  dominion.  Scipio  Africanus,  when 
he  heard  in  Spain  of  the  end  of  his  brother-in-law,  ex- 
claimed "May  all  who  act  as  he  did  perish  like  him!" 
There  were  to  be  victims  enough  and  to  spare  before  the 
bloody  drama  was  played  out.  Quiet  lasted  for  ten  years, 
and  then,  precisely  when  he  had  reached  his  brother's  age, 
Caius  Gracchus  came  forward  to  avenge  him,  and  carry 
the  movement  through  another  stage.  Young  Caius  had 
been  left  one  of  the  commissioners  of  the  land  law;  and  it 
is  particularly  noticeable  that,  though  the  author  of  it  had 
been  killed,  the  law  had  survived  him,  being  too  clearly 
right  and  politic  in  itself  to  be  openly  set  aside.  For  two 
years  the  commissioners  had  continued  to  work,  and  in 
that  time  forty  thousand  families  were  settled  on  various 
parts  of  the  ager  publicus,  which  the  patricians  had  been 
compelled  to  resign.  This  was  all  which  they  could  do. 
The  displacement  of  one  set  of  inhabitants  and  the  intro- 
duction of  another  could  not  be  accomplished  without 
quarrels,  complaints,  and  perhaps  some  injustice.  Those 
who  were  ejected  were  always  exasperated.  Those  who 
entered  on  possession  were  not  always  satisfied.  The  com- 
missioners became  unpopular.  When  the  cries  against 
them  became  loud  enough  they  were  suspended,  and  the 
law  was  then  quietly  repealed.  The  Senate  had  regained 
its  hold  over  the  assembly,  and  had  a  further  opportunity 


24  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  164-122 

of  showing  its  recovered  ascendency  when,  two  years  after 
the  murder  of  Tiberius  Gracchus,  one  of  his  friends  intro- 
duced a  bill  to  make  the  tribunes  legally  re-eligible.  Caius 
Gracchus  actively  supported  the  change,  but  it  had  no  suc- 
cess; and,  waiting  till  times  had  altered,  and  till  he  had  ar- 
rived himself  at  an  age  when  he  could  carry  weight,  the 
young  brother  retired  from  politics,  and  spent  the  next 
few  years  with  the  army  in  Africa  and  Sardinia.  Pie 
served  with  distinction;  he  made  a  name  for  himself,  both 
as  a  soldier  and  an  administrator.  Had  the  Senate  left 
him  alone,  he  might  have  been  satisfied  with  a  regular 
career,  and  have  risen  by  the  ordinary  steps  to  the  consul- 
ship. But  the  Senate  saw  in  him  the  possibilities  of  a 
second  Tiberius;  the  higher  his  reputation,  the  more  for- 
midable he  became  to  them.  They  vexed  him  with  petty 
prosecutions,  charged  him  with  crimes  which  had  no  ex- 
istence, and  at  length  by  suspicion  and  injustice  drove  him 
into  open  war  with  them.  Caius  Gracchus  had  a  broader 
intellect  than  his  brother,  and  a  character  considerably  less 
noble.  The  land  question  he  perceived  was  but  one  of 
many  questions.  The  true  source  of  the  disorders  of  the 
Commonwealth  was  the  Senate  itself.  The  administra- 
tion of  the  Empire  was  in  the  hands  of  men  totally  unfit 
to  be  trusted  with  it,  and  there  he  thought  the  reform  must 
commence.  He  threw  himself  on  the  people.  He  was 
chosen  tribune  in  123,  ten  years  exactly  after  Tiberius. 
He  had  studied  the  disposition  of  parties.  He  had  seen 
his  brother  fall  because  the  Equites  and  the  senators,  the 
great  commoners  and  the  nobles,  were  combined  against 
him.  He  revived  the  Agrarian  law  as  a  matter  of  course, 
but  he  disarmed  the  opposition  to  it  by  throwing  an  apple 
of  discord  between  the  two  superior  orders.  The  high 
judicial  functions  in  the  Commonwealth  had  been  hitherto 
a  senatorial  monopoly.  All  cases  of  importance,  civic  or 
criminal,  came  before  courts  of  sixty  or  seventy  jurymen, 
who,  as  the  law  stood,  must  be  necessarily  senators.  The 
privilege  had  been  extremely  lucrative.  The  corruption 
of  justice  was  already  notorious,  though  it  had  not  yet 


B.  c.  164-122]  THE  GRACCHI  25 

reached  the  level  of  infamy  which  it  attained  in  another 
generation.  It  was  no  secret  that  in  ordinary  causes  jury- 
men had  sold  their  verdicts;  and  far  short  of  taking  bribes 
in  the  direct  sense  of  the  word,  there  were  many  ways  in 
which  they  could  let  themselves  be  approached,  and  their 
favour  purchased.  A  monopoly  of  privileges  is  always 
invidious.  A  monopoly  in  the  sale  of  justice  is  alike  hate- 
ful to  those  who  abhor  iniquity  on  principle  and  to  those 
who  would  like  to  share  the  profits  of  it.  But  this  was 
not  the  worst.  The  governors  of  the  provinces,  being 
chosen  from  those  who  had  been  consuls  or  praetors,  were 
necessarily  members  of  the  Senate.  Peculation  and  ex- 
tortion in  these  high  functions  were  offences  in  theory  of 
the  gravest  kind;  but  the  offender  could  only  be  tried 
before  a  limited  number  of  his  peers,  and  a  governor  who 
had  plundered  a  subject  state,  sold  justice,  pillaged  tem- 
ples, and  stolen  all  that  he  could  lay  hands  on,  was  safe 
from  punishment  if  he  returned  to  Rome  a  millionaire  and 
would  admit  others  to  a  share  in  his  spoils.  The  provin- 
cials might  send  deputations  to  complain,  but  these  com- 
plaints came  before  men  who  had  themselves  governed 
provinces  or  else  aspired  to  govern  them.  It  had  been 
proved  in  too  many  instances  that  the  law  which  professed 
to  protect  them  was  a  mere  mockery. 

Caius  Gracchus  secured  the  affections  of  the  knights  to 
himself,  and  some  slightly  increased  chance  of  an  improve- 
ment in  the  provincial  administration,  by  carrying  a  law 
in  the  assembly  disabling  the  senators  from  sitting  on 
juries  of  any  kind  from  that  day  forward,  and  transferring 
the  judicial  functions  to  the  Equites.  How  bitterly  must 
such  a  measure  have  been  resented  by  the  Senate,  which  at 
once  robbed  them  of  their  protective  and  profitable  privi- 
leges, handed  them  over  to  be  tried  by  their  rivals  for  their 
pleasant  irregularities,  and  stamped  them  at  the  same  time 
with  the  brand  of  dishonesty!  How  certainly  must  such 
a  measure  have  been  deserved  when  neither  consul  nor 
tribune  could  be  found  to  interpose  his  vote!  Supported 
by  the  grateful  knights,  Caius  Gracchus  was  for  the  mo- 


26  JULIUS   CiESAR  [b.  c.  164-122 

ment  all-powerful.  It  was  not  enough  to  restore  the 
Agrarian  law.  He  passed  another  aimed  at  his  brother's 
murderers,  which  was  to  bear  fruit  in  later  years,  that  no 
Roman  citizen  might  be  put  to  death  by  any  person,  how- 
ever high  in  authority,  without  legal  trial,  and  without  ap- 
peal, if  he  chose  to  make  it,  to  the  sovereign  people.  A 
blow  was  thus  struck  against  another  right  claimed  by  the 
Senate,  of  declaring  the  Republic  in  danger,  and  the  tem- 
porary suspension  of  the  constitution.  These  measures 
might  be  excused,  and  perhaps  commended;  but  the 
younger  Gracchus  connected  his  name  with  another 
change  less  commendable,  which  was  destined  also  to  sur- 
vive and  bear  fruit.  He  brought  forward  and  carried 
through,  with  enthusiastic  clapping  of  every  pair  of  hands 
in  Rome  that  were  hardened  with  labour,  a  proposal  that 
there  should  be  public  granaries  in  the  city,  maintained 
and  filled  at  the  cost  of  the  State,  and  that  corn  should  be 
sold  at  a  rate  artificially  cheap  to  the  poor  free  citizens. 
Such  a  law  was  purely  socialistic.  The  privilege  was  con- 
fined to  Rome,  because  in  Rome  the  elections  were  held, 
and  the  Roman  constituency  was  the  one  depository  of 
power.  The  effect  was  to  gather  into  the  city  a  mob  of 
needy,  unemployed  voters,  living  on  the  charity  of  the 
State,  to  crowd  the  circus  and  to  clamour  at  the  elections, 
available  no  doubt  immediately  to  strengthen  the  hands  of 
the  popular  tribune,  but  certain  in  the  long  run  to  sell 
themselves  to  those  who  could  bid  highest  for  their  voices. 
Excuses  could  be  found,  no  doubt,  for  this  miserable  ex- 
pedient, in  the  state  of  parties,  in  the  unscrupulous  vio- 
lence of  the  aristocracy,  in  the  general  impoverishment  of 
the  peasantry  through  the  land  monopoly,  and  in  the  in- 
trusion upon  Italy  of  a  gigantic  system  of  slave  labour. 
But  none  the  less  it  was  the  deadliest  blow  which  had  yet 
been  dealt  to  the  constitution.  Party  government  turns 
on  the  majorities  at  the  polling  places,  and  it  was  difficult 
afterwards  to  recall  a  privilege  which,  once  conceded,  ap- 
peared to  be  a  right.  The  utmost  that  could  be  ventured 
in  later  times  with  any  prospect  of  success  was  to  limit  an 


B.  c.  164-122]  THE  GRACCHI  2J 

intolerable  evil;  and  if  one  side  was  ever  strong  enough  to 
make  the  attempt,  their  rivals  had  a  bribe  ready  in  their 
hands  to  buy  back  the  popular  support.  Caius  Gracchus, 
however,  had  his  way,  and  carried  all  before  him.  He 
escaped  the  rock  on  which  his  brother  had  been  wrecked. 
He  was  elected  tribune  a  second  time.  He  might  have 
had  a  third  term  if  he  had  been  contented  to  be  a  mere 
demagogue.  But  he,  too,  like  Tiberius,  had  honourable 
aims.  The  powers  which  he  had  played  into  the  hands  of 
the  mob  to  obtain,  he  desired  to  use  for  high  purposes  of 
statesmanship,  and  his  instrument  broke  in  his  hands.  He 
was  too  wise  to  suppose  that  a  Roman  mob,  fed  by  boun- 
ties from  the  treasury,  could  permanently  govern  the 
world.  He  had  schemes  for  scattering  Roman  colonies, 
with  the  Roman  franchise,  at  various  points  of  the  Empire. 
Carthage  was  to  be  one  of  them.  He  thought  of  abolish- 
ing the  distinction  between  Romans  and  Italians  and  en- 
franchising the  entire  peninsula.  These  measures  were 
good  in  themselves — essential,  indeed,  if  the  Roman  con- 
quests were  to  form  a  compact  and  permanent  dominion. 
But  the  object  was  not  attainable  on  the  road  on  which 
Gracchus  had  entered.  The  vagabond  part  of  the  con- 
stituency was  well  contented  with  what  it  had  obtained:  a 
life  in  the  city,  supported  at  the  public  expense,  with  poli- 
tics and  games  for  its  amusements.  It  had  not  the  least 
inclination  to  be  drafted  off  into  settlements  in  Spain  or 
Africa,  where  there  would  be  work  instead  of  pleasant  idle- 
ness. Carthage  was  still  a  name  of  terror.  To  restore 
Carthage  was  no  better  than  treason.  Still  less  had  the 
Roman  citizens  an  inclination  to  share  their  privileges  with 
Samnites  and  Etruscans,  and  see  the  value  of  their  votes 
watered  down.  Political  storms  are  always  cyclones. 
The  gale  from  the  east  to-day  is  a  gale  from  the  west  to- 
morrow. Who  and  what  were  the  Gracchi  then? — the 
sweet  voices  began  to  ask — ambitious  intriguers,  aiming 
at  dictatorship,  or  perhaps  the  crown.  The  aristocracy 
were  right  after  all;  a  few  things  had  gone  wrong,  but 
these  had  been  amended.     The  Scipios  and  Metelli  had 


28  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  164-122 

conquered  the  world:  the  Scipios  and  Metelli  were  alone 
fit  to  govern  it.  Thus  when  the  election  time  came  round, 
the  party  of  reform  was  reduced  to  a  minority  of  irrecon- 
cilable radicals,  who  were  easily  disposed  of.  Again,  as  ten 
years  before,  the  noble  lords  armed  their  followers.  Riots 
broke  out  and  extended  day  after  day.  Caius  Gracchus 
was  at  last  killed,  as  his  brother  had  been,  and  under  cover 
of  the  disturbance  three  thousand  of  his  friends  were 
killed  along  with  him.  The  power  being  again  securely 
in  their  hands,  the  Senate  proceeded  at  their  leisure,  and 
the  surviving  patriots  who  were  in  any  way  notorious  or 
dangerous  were  hunted  down  in  legal  manner  and  put  to 
death  or  banished. 


CHAPTER  IV 

CAIUS  GRACCHUS  was  killed  at  the  close  of  the 
year  122.  The  storm  was  over.  The  Senate  was 
once  more  master  of  the  situation,  and  the  opti- 
mates,  ''  the  best  party  in  the  State,"  as  they  were  pleased 
to  call  themselves,  smoothed  their  ruffled  plumes  and  set- 
tled again  into  their  places.  There  was  no  more  talk  of 
reform.  Of  the  Gracchi  there  remained  nothing  but  the 
forty  thousand  peasant  proprietors  settled  on  the  public 
lands;  the  Jury  law,  which  could  not  be  at  once  repealed 
for  fear  of  the  Equites;  the  corn  grants,  and  the  mob  at- 
tracted by  the  bounty,  which  could  be  managed  by  im- 
proved manipulation,  and  the  law  protecting  the  lives  of 
Roman  citizens,  which  survived  in  the  statute  book, 
although  the  Senate  still  claimed  the  right  to  set  it  aside 
when  they  held  the  State  to  be  in  danger.  With  these  ex- 
ceptions, the  administration  fell  back  into  its  old  condition. 
The  tribunes  ceased  to  agitate.  The  consulships  and  the 
prsetorships  fell  to  the  candidates  whom  the  Senate  sup- 
ported. Whether  the  oligarchy  had  learnt  any  lessons  of 
caution  from  the  brief  political  earthquake  which  had 
shaken  but  not  overthrown  them,  remained  to  be  seen. 
Six  years  after  the  murder  of  Caius  Gracchus  an  oppor- 
tunity was  afforded  to  this  distinguished  body  of  showing 
on  a  conspicuous  scale  the  material  of  which  they  were 
now  composed. 

Along  the  south  shore  of  the  Mediterranean,  west  of  the 
Roman  province,  extended  the  two  kingdoms  of  the  Nu- 
midians  and  the  Moors.  To  what  race  these  people  be- 
longed is  not  precisely  known.  They  were  not  Negroes. 
The  Negro  tribes  have  never  extended  north  of  the 
Sahara.  Nor  were  they  Carthaginians,  or  alHed  to  the 
Carthaginians.  The  Carthaginian  colony  found  them  in 
possession  on  its  arrival.     Sallust  says  that  they  were  Per- 

29 


30  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  122-106 

sians  left  behind  by  Hercules  after  his  invasion  of  Spain. 
Sallust's  evidence  proves  no  more  than  that  their  appear- 
ance was  Asiatic,  and  that  tradition  assigned  them  an 
Asiatic  origin.  They  may  be  called  generically  Arabs, 
who  at  a  very  ancient  time  had  spread  along  the  coast  from 
Egypt  to  Morocco.  The  Numidians  at  this  period  were 
civilized,  according  to  the  manners  of  the  age.  They  had 
walled  towns;  they  had  considerable  wealth;  their  lands 
were  extensively  watered  and  cultivated;  their  great  men 
had  country  houses  and  villas,  the  surest  sign  of  a  settled 
state  of  society.  Among  the  equipments  of  their  army 
they  had  numerous  elephants  (it  may  be  presumed  of  the 
African  breed),  which  they  and  the  Carthaginians  had  cer- 
tainly succeeded  in  domesticating.  Masinissa,  the  king  of 
this  people,  had  been  the  ally  of  Rome  in  the  last  Cartha- 
ginian war;  he  had  been  afterwards  received  as  "  a  friend 
of  the  Republic,"  and  was  one  of  the  protected  sovereigns. 
He  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Micipsa,  who  in  turn  had 
two  legitimate  children,  Hiempsal  and  Adherbal,  and  an 
illegitimate  nephew  Jugurtha,  considerably  older  than  his 
own  boys,  a  young  man  of  striking  talent  and  promise. 
Micipsa,  who  was  advanced  in  years,  was  afraid  that  if  he 
died  this  brilliant  youth  might  be  a  dangerous  rival  to  his 
sons.  He  therefore  sent  him  to  serve  under  Scipio  in 
Spain,  with  the  hope,  so  his  friends  asserted,  that  he  might 
there  perhaps  be  killed.  The  Roman  army  was  then  en- 
gaged in  the  siege  of  Numantia.  The  camp  was  the 
lounging  place  of  the  young  patricians  who  were  tired  of 
Rome  and  wished  for  excitement.  Discipline  had  'fallen 
loose;  the  officers'  quarters  were  the  scene  of  extravagance 
and  amusement.  Jugurtha  recommended  himself  on  the 
one  side  to  Scipio  by  activity  and  good  service,  while  on 
the  other  he  made  acquaintances  among  the  high-bred 
gentlemen  in  the  mess-rooms.  He  found  them  in  them- 
selves dissolute  and  unscrupulous.  He  discovered, 
through  communications,  which  he  was  able  with  their 
assistance  to  open  with  their  fathers  and  relatives  at  Rome, 
that   a   man   with   money   might   do   what   he   pleased. 


B.  c.  122-106]  JUGURTHA  31 

Micipsa's  treasury  was  well  supplied,  and  Jugurtha  hinted 
among  his  comrades  that,  if  he  could  be  secure  of  counte- 
nance in  seizing  the  kingdom,  he  would  be  in  a  position 
to  show  his  gratitude  in  a  substantial  manner.  Some  of 
these  conversations  reached  the  ears  of  Scipio,  who  sent 
for  Jugurtha  and  gave  him  a  friendly  warning.  He  dis- 
missed him,  however,  with  honour  at  the  end  of  the  cam- 
paign. The  young  prince  returned  to  Africa,  loaded  with 
distinctions,  and  the  king,  being  now  afraid  to  pass  him 
over,  named  him  as  joint-heir  with  his  children  to  a  third 
part  of  Numidia.  The  Numidians  perhaps  objected  to  be- 
ing partitioned.  Micipsa  died  soon  after.  Jugurtha  at 
once  murdered  Hiempsal,  claimed  the  sovereignty,  and 
attacked  his  other  cousin.  Adherbal,  closely  besieged  in 
the  town  of  Cirta,  which  remained  faithful  to  him,  ap- 
pealed to  Rome;  but  Jugurtha  had  already  prepared  his 
ground,  and  knew  that  he  had  nothing  to  fear.  The  Sen- 
ate sent  out  commissioners.  The  commissioners  received 
the  bribes  which  they  expected.  They  gave  Jugurtha 
general  instructions  to  leave  his  cousin  in  peace;  but  they 
did  not  wait  to  see  their  orders  obeyed,  and  went  quietly 
home.  The  natural  results  immediately  followed.  Ju- 
gurtha pressed  the  siege  more  resolutely.  The  town  sur- 
rendered, Adherbal  was  taken,  and  was  put  to  death  after 
being  savagely  tortured;  and  there  being  no  longer  any 
competitor  alive  in  whose  behalf  the  Senate  could  be 
called  on  to  interfere,  he  thought  himself  safe  from  further 
interference.  Unfortunately,  in  the  capture  of  Cirta  a 
number  of  Romans  who  resided  there  had  been  killed  after 
the  surrender,  and  after  a  promise  that  their  lives  should 
be  spared.  An  outcry  was  raised  in  Rome,  and  became 
so  loud  that  the  Senate  was  forced  to  promise  investiga- 
tion; but  it  went  to  work  languidly,  with  reluctance  so 
evident  as  to  rouse  suspicion.  Notwithstanding  the  fate 
of  the  Gracchi  and  their  friends,  Memmius,  a  tribune,  was 
found  bold  enough  to  tell  the  people  that  there  were  men 
in  the  Senate  who  had  taken  bribes. 

The  Senate,  conscious  of  its  guilt,  was  now  obliged  to 


32  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  122-106 

exert  itself.  War  was  declared  against  Jugurtha,  and  a 
consul  was  sent  to  Africa  with  an  army.  But  the  consul, 
too,  had  his  fortune  to  make,  and  Micipsa's  treasures  were 
still  unexpended.  The  consul  took  with  him  a  staff  of 
young  patricians,  whose  families  might  be  counted  on  to 
shield  him  in  return  for  a  share  of  the  plunder.  Jugurtha 
was  as  liberal  as  avarice  could  desire,  and  peace  was 
granted  to  him  on  the  easy  conditions  of  a  nominal  fine, 
and  the  surrender  of  some  elephants,  which  the  consul  pri- 
vately restored. 

Public  opinion  was  singularly  patient.  The  massacre 
six  years  before  had  killed  out  the  liberal  leaders,  and  there 
was  no  desire  on  any  side  as  yet  to  renew  the  struggle  with 
the  Senate.  But  it  was  possible  to  presume  too  far  on 
popular  acquiescence.  Memmius  came  forward  again,  and 
in  a  passionate  speech  in  the  Forum  exposed  and  de- 
nounced the  scandalous  transaction.  The  political  sky  be- 
gan to  blacken  again.  The  Senate  could  not  face  another 
storm  with  so  bad  a  cause,  and  Jugurtha  was  sent  for  to 
Rome.  He  came,  with  contemptuous  confidence,  loaded 
with  gold.  He  could  not  corrupt  Memmius,  but  he 
bought  easily  the  rest  of  the  tribunes.  The  leaders  in  the 
Curia  could  not  quarrel  with  a  client  of  such  delightful 
liberality.  He  had  an  answer  to  every  complaint,  and  a 
fee  to  silence  the  complainer.  He  would  have  gone  back 
in  triumph,  had  he  not  presumed  a  little  too  far.  He  had 
another  cousin  in  the  city  who  he  feared  might  one  day 
give  him  trouble,  so  he  employed  one  of  his  suite  to  poison 
him.  The  murder  was  accomplished  successfully;  and  for 
this  too  he  might  no  doubt  have  secured  his  pardon  by 
paying  for  it;  but  the  price  demanded  was  too  high,  and 
perhaps  Jugurtha,  villain  as  he  was,  came  at  last  to  disdain 
the  wretches  whom  he  might  consider  fairly  to  be  worse 
than  himself.  He  had  come  over  under  a  safe  conduct, 
and  he  was  not  detained.  The  Senate  ordered  him  to 
leave  Italy;  and  he  departed  with  the  scornful  phrase  on 
his  lips  which  has  passed  into  history:  ''Venal  city,  and 
soon  to  perish  if  only  it  can  find  a  purchaser."^ 


B.  C.  122-106]  JUGURTHA  33 

A  second  army  was  sent  across,  to  end  the  scandal. 
This  time  the  Senate  was  in  earnest,  but  the  work  was  less 
easy  than  was  expected.  Army  management  had  fallen 
into  disorder.  In  earlier  times  each  Roman  citizen  had 
provided  his  own  equipments  at  his  own  expense.  To  be 
a  soldier  was  part  of  the  business  of  his  life,  and  military 
training  was  an  essential  feature  of  his  education.  The 
old  system  had  broken  down;  the  peasantry,  from  whom 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  legions  had  been  recruited,  were  no 
longer  able  to  furnish  their  own  arms.  Caius  Gracchus 
had  intended  that  arms  should  be  furnished  by  the  govern- 
ment; that  a  special  department  should  be  constituted  to 
take  charge  of  the  arsenals,  and  to  see  to  the  distribution. 
But  Gracchus  was  dead,  and  his  project  had  died  with  him. 
When  the  legions  were  enrolled,  the  men  were  ill  armed, 
undrilled,  and  unprovided — a  mere  mob,  gathered  hastily 
together  and  ignorant  of  the  first  elements  of  their  duty. 
With  the  officers  it  was  still  worse.  The  subordinate  com- 
mands fell  to  young  patricians,  carpet  knights,  who  went 
on  campaigns  with  their  families  of  slaves.  The  generals, 
when  a  movement  was  to  be  made,  looked  for  instruction 
to  their  staff.  It  sometimes  happened  that  a  consul  waited 
for  his  election  to  open  for  the  first  time  a  book  of  military 
history  or  a  Greek  manual  of  the  art  of  war.^ 

An  army  so  composed  and  so  led  was  not  likely  to  pros- 
per. The  Numidians  were  not  very  formidable  enemies, 
but  after  a  month  or  two  of  manoeuvring,  half  the  Romans 
were  destroyed,  and  the  remainder  were  obliged  to  sur- 
render. About  the  same  time,  and  from  similar  causes, 
two  Roman  armies  were  cut  to  pieces  on  the  Rhone. 
While  the  great  men  at  Rome  were  building  palaces,  in- 
venting new  dishes,  and  hiring  cooks  at  unheard-of  sala- 
ries, the  barbarians  were  at  the  gates  of  Italy.  The  passes 
of  the  Alps  were  open,  and  if  a  few  tribes  of  Gauls  had 
cared  to  pour  through  them  the  Empire  was  at  their 
mercy. 

Stung  with  these  accumulating  disgraces  and  now  really 
alarmed,  the  Senate  sent  Caecilius  Metellus,  the  best  man 

3 


34  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  122-106 

that  they  had  and  the  consul  for  the  year  following,  to 
Africa.  Metellus  was  an  aristocrat,  and  he  was  advanced 
in  years;  but  he  was  a  man  of  honour  and  integrity.  He 
understood  the  danger  of  further  failure;  and  he  looked 
about  for  the  ablest  soldier  that  he  could  find  to  go  with 
him,  irrespective  of  his  political  opinions. 

Caius  Marius  was  at  this  time  forty-eight  years  old. 
Two-thirds  of  his  life  were  over,  and  a  name  which  was  to 
sound  throughout  the  world  and  be  remembered  through 
all  ages,  had  as  yet  been  scarcely  heard  of  beyond  the  army 
and  the  poUtical  clubs  in  Rome.  He  was  born  at  Arpi- 
num,  a  Latin  township,  seventy  miles  from  the  capital,  in 
the  year  157.  His  father  was  a  small  farmer,  and  he  was 
himself  bred  to  the  plough.  He  joined  the  army  early, 
and  soon  attracted  notice  by  his  punctual  discharge  of  his 
duties.  In  a  time  of  growing  looseness,  Marius  was  strict 
himself  in  keeping  discipline  and  in  enforcing  it  as  he  rose 
in  the  service.  He  was  in  Spain  when  Jugurtha  was  there, 
and  made  himself  especially  useful  to  Scipio;  he  forced  his 
way  steadily  upwards,  by  his  mere  soldierlike  qualities,  to 
the  rank  of  military  tribune.  Rome,  too,  had  learnt  to 
know  him,  for  he  was  chosen  tribune  of  the  people  the 
year  after  the  murder  of  Caius  Gracchus.  Being  a  self- 
made  man,  he  belonged  naturally  to  the  popular  party. 
While  in  office  he  gave  ofifence  in  some  way  to  the  men  in 
power,  and  was  called  before  the  Senate  to  answer  for 
himself.  But  he  had  the  right  on  his  side,  it  is  likely,  for 
they  found  him  stubborn  and  impertinent,  and  they  could 
make  nothing  of  their  charges  against  him.  He  was  not 
bidding  at  this  time,  however,  for  the  support  of  the  mob. 
He  had  the  integrity  and  sense  to  oppose  the  largesses  of 
corn;  and  he  forfeited  his  popularity  by  trying  to  close  the 
public  granaries  before  the  practice  had  passed  into  a  sys- 
tem. He  seemed  as  if  made  of  a  block  of  hard  Roman 
oak,  gnarled  and  knotted,  but  sound  in  all  its  fibres.  His 
professional  merit  continued  to  recommend  him.  At  the 
age  of  forty  he  became  praetor,  and  was  sent  to  Spain, 
where  he  left  a  mark  again  by  the  successful  severity  by 


B.  c.  122-106]  MARIUS  35 

which  he  cleared  the  province  of  banditti.  He  was  a  man 
neither  given  himself  to  talking,  nor  much  talked  about 
in  the  world;  but  he  was  sought  for  wherever  work  was  to 
be  done,  and  he  had  made  himself  respected  and  valued  in 
high  circles,  for  after  his  return  from  the  Peninsula  he  had 
married  into  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  patrician 
families. 

The  Caesars  were  a  branch  of  the  Gens  Julia,  which 
claimed  descent  from  lulus  the  son  of  ^neas,  and  thus 
from  the  gods.  Roman  etymologists  could  arrive  at  no 
conclusion  as  to  the  origin  of  the  name.  Some  derived  it 
from  an  exploit  on  an  elephant  hunt  in  Africa — Caesar 
meaning  elephant  in  Moorish;  some  to  the  entrance  into 
the  world  of  the  first  eminent  Caesar  by  the  aid  of  a  sur- 
geon's knife ;  ^  some  from  the  color  of  the  eyes  prevailing 
in  the  family.  Be  the  explanation  what  it  might,  eight 
generations  of  Caesars  had  held  prominent  positions  in  the 
Commonwealth.  They  had  been  consuls,  censors,  prae- 
tors, aediles,  and  military  tribunes,  and  in  politics,  as  might 
be  expected  from  their  position,  they  had  been  moderate 
aristocrats.  Like  other  families,  they  had  been  sub- 
divided, and  the  links  connecting  them  cannot  always  be 
traced.  The  pedigree  of  the  Dictator  goes  no  further  than 
to  his  grandfather,  Caius  Julius.  In  the  middle  of  the  sec- 
ond century  before  Christ,  this  Caius  Julius,  being  other- 
wise unknown  to  history,  married  a  lady  named  Marcia, 
supposed  to  be  descended  from  Ancus  Marcius,  the  fourth 
king  of  Rome.  By  her  he  had  three  children,  Caius  Julius, 
Sextus  Julius,  and  a  daughter  named  Julia.  Caius  Julius 
married  Aurelia,  perhaps  a  member  of  the  consular  family 
of  the  Cottas,  and  was  the  father  of  the  Great  Caesar.  Julia 
became  the  wife  of  Caius  Marius,  a  mesalliance,  which  im- 
plied the  beginning  of  a  political  split  in  the  Caesar  family. 
The  elder  branches,  like  the  Cromwells  of  Hinchinbrook, 
remained  by  their  order.  The  younger  attached  itself  for 
good  or  ill  to  the  party  of  the  people. 

Marius  by  this  marriage  became  a  person  of  social  con- 
sideration.    His  father  had  been  a  client  of  the  Metelli; 


36  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  122-106 

and  Csecilius  Metellus,  who  must  have  known  Marius  by 
reputation  and  probably  in  person,  invited  him  to  go  as 
second  in  command  in  the  African  campaign.  He  was 
moderately  successful.  Towns  were  taken;  battles  were 
won:  Metellus  was  incorruptible,  and  the  Numidians  sued 
for  peace.  But  Jugurtha  wanted  terms,  and  the  consul  de- 
manded unconditional  surrender.  Jugurtha  withdrew  into 
the  desert;  the  war  dragged  on;  and  Marius,  perhaps  ambi- 
tious, perhaps  impatient  at  the  general's  want  of  vigour,  be- 
gan to  think  that  he  could  make  quicker  work  of  it.  The 
popular  party  were  stirring  again  in  Rome,  the  Senate  hav- 
ing so  notoriously  disgraced  itself.  There  was  just  irrita- 
tion that  a  petty  African  prince  could  defy  the  whole 
power  of  Rome  for  so  many  years;  and  though  a  demo- 
cratic consul  had  been  unheard  of  for  a  century,  the  name 
of  Marius  began  to  be  spoken  of  as  a  possible  candidate. 
Marius  consented  to  stand.  The  law  required  that  he 
must  be  present  in  person  at  the  election,  and  he  applied 
to  his  commander  for  leave  of  absence.  Metellus  laughed 
at  his  pretensions,  and  bade  him  wait  another  twenty  years. 
Marius,  however,  persisted,  and  was  allowed  to  go.  The 
patricians  strained  their  resources  to  defeat  him,  but  he 
was  chosen  with  enthusiasm.  Metellus  was  recalled,  and 
the  conduct  of  the  Numidian  war  was  assigned  to  the  new 
hero  of  the  "  Populares." 

A  shudder  of  alarm  ran,  no  doubt,  through  the  senate 
house,  when  the  determination  of  the  people  was  known. 
A  successful  general  could  not  be  disposed  of  so  easily  as 
oratorical  tribunes.  Fortunately,  Marius  was  not  a  poli- 
tician. He  had  no  belief  in  democracy.  He  was  a  sol- 
dier, and  had  a  soldier's  way  of  thinking  on  government 
and  the  methods  of  it.  His  first  step  was  a  reformation 
in  the  army.  Hitherto  the  Roman  legions  had  been  no 
more  than  the  citizens  in  arms,  called  for  the  moment  from 
their  various  occupations,  to  return  to  them  when  the  oc- 
casion for  their  services  was  past.  Marius  had  perceived 
that  fewer  men,  better  trained  and  disciplined,  could  be 
made  more  effective  and  be  more  easily  handled.     He  had 


B.  c.  122-106]  MARIUS  37 

Studied  war  as  a  science.  He  had  perceived  that  the  pres- 
ent weakness  need  be  no  more  than  an  accident,  and  that 
there  was  a  latent  force  in  the  Roman  State  which  needed 
only  organization  to  resume  its  ascendency.  "  He  en- 
listed," it  is  said,  "  the  worst  of  the  citizens,"  men,  that  is 
to  say,  who  had  no  occupation,  and  who  became  soldiers 
by  profession;  and  as  persons  without  property  could  not 
have  furnished  themselves  at  their  own  cost,  he  must  have 
carried  out  the  scheme  proposed  by  Gracchus,  and 
equipped  them  at  the  expense  of  the  State.  His  discipline 
was  of  the  sternest.  The  experiment  was  new;  and  men  of 
rank  who  had  a  taste  for  war  in  earnest,  and  did  not  wish 
that  the  popular  party  should  have  the  whole  benefit  and 
credit  of  the  improvements,  were  willing  to  go  with  him; 
among  them  a  dissipated  young  patrician,  called  Lucius 
Sylla,  whose  name  also  was  destined  to  be  memorable. 

By  these  methods  and  out  of  these  materials  an  army 
was  formed  such  as  no  Roman  general  had  hitherto  led. 
It  performed  extraordinary  marches,  carried  its  water  sup- 
plies with  it  in  skins,  and  followed  the  enemy  across  sandy 
deserts  hitherto  found  impassable.  In  less  than  two  years 
the  war  was  over.  The  Moors,  to  whom  Jugurtha  had 
fled,  surrendered  him  to  Sylla;  and  he  was  brought  in 
chains  to  Rome,  where  he  finished  his  life  in  a  dungeon. 

So  ended  a  curious  episode  in  Roman  history,  where  it 
holds  a  place  beyond  its  intrinsic  importance,  from  the 
light  which  it  throws  on  the  character  of  the  Senate  and 
on  the  practical  working  of  the  institutions  which  the 
Gracchi  had  perished  in  unsuccessfully  attempting  to 
reform. 

Notes. 

'  Page  32.  "Urbem  venalem,  et  mature  perituram,  si  emptorem 
invenerit."  Sallust,  "  De  Bello  Jugurthino,"  c.  35.  Livy's  account  of 
the  business,  however,  differs  from  Sallust's,  and  the  expression  is  per- 
haps not  authentic, 

2  Page  33.  "  At  ego  scio,  Quirites,  qui,  postquam  consules  facti  sunt, 
acta  majorum,  et  Grsecorum  militaria  prsecepta  legere  cceperint: 
Homines  prseposteri!  " — Speech  of  Marius,  Sallust,  •*  Jugurtha,"  85. 

3  Page  35.     "  Caesus  ab  utero  matris." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  Jugurthine  war  ended  in  the  year  io6  B.  C. 
At  the  same  Arpinum,  which  had  produced 
Marius,  another  actor  in  the  approaching  drama 
was  in  that  year  ushered  into  the  world,  Marcus  Tulhus 
Cicero.  The  Ciceros  had  made  their  names,  and  perhaps 
their  fortunes,  by  their  skill  in  raising  cicer  or  vetches. 
The  present  representative  of  the  family  was  a  country 
gentleman  in  good  circumstances,  given  to  literature,  re- 
siding habitually  at  his  estate  on  the  Liris  and  paying 
occasional  visits  to  Rome.  In  that  household  was  born 
Rome's  most  eloquent  master  of  the  art  of  using  words, 
who  was  to  carry  that  art  as  far,  and  to  do  as  much  with 
it,  as  any  man  who  has  ever  appeared  on  the  world's  stage. 
Rome,  however,  was  for  the  present  in  the  face  of  ene- 
mies who  had  to  be  encountered  with  more  material  weap- 
ons. Marius  had  formed  an  army  barely  in  time  to  save 
\jtaly  from  being  totally  overwhelmed.  A  vast  migratory 
wave  of  population  had  been  set  in  motion  behind  the 
Rhine  and  the  Danube.  The  German  forests  were  uncul- 
tivated. The  hunting  and  pasture  grounds  were  too  strait 
for  the  numbers  crowded  into  them,  and  two  enormous 
hordes  were  rolling  westward  and  southward  in  search  of 
some  new  abiding  place.  The  Teutons  came  from  the 
Baltic  down  across  the  Rhine  into  Luxemburg.  The 
Cimbri  crossed  the  Danube  near  its  sources  into  Illyria. 
Both  Teutons  and  Cimbri  were  Germans,  and  both  were 
making  for  Gaul  by  different  routes.  The  Celts  of  Gaul 
had  had  their  day.  In  past  generations  they  had  held  the 
German  invaders  at  bay,  and  had  even  followed  them  into 
their  own  territories.  But  they  had  split  among  them- 
selves. They  no  longer  offered  a  common  front  to  the 
enemy.     They  were  ceasing  to  be  able  to  maintain  their 

38 


B.  c.  106-100]  THE  CIMBRI  AND  TEUTONS  •      39 

own  independence,  and  the  question  of  the  future  was 
whether  Gaul  was  to  be  the  prey  of  Germany  or  to  be  a 
province  of  Rome. 

Events  appeared  already  to  have  decided.  The  invasion 
of  the  Teutons  and  the  Cimbri,  was  like  the  pouring  in  of 
two  great  rivers.  Each  division  consisted  of  hundreds  of 
thousands.  They  travelled,  with  their  wives  and  children, 
their  wagons,  as  with  the  ancient  Scythians  and  with  the 
modern  South  African  Dutch,  being  at  once  their  convey- 
ance and  their  home.  Gray-haired  priestesses  tramped 
along  among  them,  barefooted,  in  white  linen  dresses,  the 
knife  at  their  girdle;  northern  Iphigenias,  sacrificing  pris- 
oners as  they  were  taken  to  the  gods  of  Valhalla.  On  they 
swept,  eating  up  the  country,  and  the  people  flying  before 
them.  In  113  B.  C.  the  skirts  of  the  Cimbri  had  encoun- 
tered a  small  Roman  force  near  Trieste,  and  destroyed  it. 
Four  years  later  another  attempt  was  made  to  stop  them, 
but  the  Roman  army  was  beaten  and  its  camp  taken.  The 
Cimbrian  host  did  not,  however,  turn  at  that  time  upon 
Italy.  Their  aim  was  the  south  of  France.  They  made 
their  way  through  the  Alps  into  Switzerland,  where  the 
Helvetii  joined  them,  and  the  united  mass  rolled  over  the 
Jura  and  down  the  bank  of  the  Rhone.  Roused  at  last 
into  the  exertion,  the  Senate  sent  into  Gaul  the  largest 
force  which  the  Romans  had  ever  brought  into  the  field. 
They  met  the  Cimbri  at  Orange,  and  were  simply  annihi- 
lated. Eighty  thousand  Romans  and  forty  thousand  camp 
followers  were  said  to  have  fallen.  The  numbers  in  such 
cases  are  generally  exaggerated,  but  the  extravagance  of 
the  report  is  a  witness  to  the  greatness  of  the  overthrow. 
The  Romans  had  received  a  worse  blow  than  at  Cannae. 
They  were  brave  enough,  but  they  were  commanded  by 
persons  whose  recommendations  for  command  were  birth 
or  fortune;  ''preposterous  men,"  as  Marius  termed  them, 
who  had  waited  for  their  appointment  to  open  the  military 
manuals. 

Had  the  Cimbri  chosen  at  this  moment  to  recross  the  - 
Alps  into  Italy,  they  had  only  to  go  and  take  possession,. 


40  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  106-100 

and  Alaric  would  have  been  antedated  by  five  centuries. 
In  great  danger  it  was  the  Senate's  business  to  suspend 
the  constitution.  The  constitution  was  set  aside  now,  but 
it  was  set  aside  by  the  people  themselves,  not  by  the  Sen- 
ate. One  man  only  could  save  the  country,  and  that  man 
was  Marius.  His  consulship  was  over,  and  custom  for- 
bade his  re-election.  The  Senate  might  have  appointed 
him  Dictator,  but  would  not.  The  people,  custom  or  no 
custom,  chose  him  consul  a  second  time — a  significant 
acknowledgment  that  the  Empire,  which  had  been  won 
by  the  sword,  must  be  held  by  the  sword,  and  that  the 
sv/ord  itself  must  be  held  by  the  hand  that  was  best  fitted 
to  use  it.  Marius  first  triumphed  for  his  African  victory, 
and,  as  an  intimation  to  the  Senate  that  the  power  for  the 
moment  was  his  and  not  theirs,  he  entered  the  Curia  in 
his  triumphal  dress.  He  then  prepared  for  the  barbarians 
who,  to  the  alarmed  imagination  of  the  city,  were  already 
knocking  at  its  gates.  Time  was  the  important  element 
in  the  matter.  Had  the  Cimbri  come  at  once  after  their 
victory  at  Orange,  Italy  had  been  theirs.  But  they  did 
not  come.  With  the  unguided  movements  of  some  wild 
force  of  nature  they  swerved  away  through  Aquitaine  to 
the  Pyrenees.  They  swept  across  the  mountains  into 
Spain.  Thence,  turning  north,  they  passed  up  the  Atlan- 
tic coast  and  round  to  the  Seine,  the  Gauls  flying  before 
them;  thence  on  to  the  Rhine,  where  the  vast  body  of  the 
Teutons  joined  them  and  fresh  detachments  of  the  Hel- 
vetii.  It  was  as  if  some  vast  tidal  wave  had  surged  over 
the  country  and  rolled  through  it,  searching  out  the 
easiest  passages.  At  length,  in  two  divisions,  the 
invaders  moved  definitely  towards  Italy,  the  Cimbri 
following  their  old  tracks  by  the  Eastern  Alps  to- 
wards Aquileia  and  the  Adriatic,  the  Teutons  pass- 
ing down  through  Provence,  and  making  for  the 
road  along  the  Mediterranean.  Two  years  had  been 
consumed  in  these  wanderings,  and  Marius  was  by  this 
time  ready  for  them.  The  Senate  had  dropped  the  reins, 
and  no  longer  governed  or  misgoverned;  the  popular 


B.  c.  106-100]  THE   CIMBRI  AND   TEUTONS  4I 

party,  represented  by  the  army,  was  supreme.  Marius  was 
continued  in  office,  and  was  a  fourth  time  consul.  He  had 
completed  his  military  reforms,  and  the  army  was  now  a 
professional  service,  with  regular  pay.  Trained  corps  of 
engineers  were  attached  to  each  legion.  The  campaigns 
of  the  Romans  were  thenceforward  to  be  conducted  with 
spade  and  pickaxe  as  much  as  with  the  sword  and  javelin, 
and  the  soldiers  learnt  the  use  of  tools  as  well  as  arms. 
Moral  discipline  was  not  forgotten.  The  foulest  of  human 
vices  was  growing  fashionable  in  high  society  in  the  capi- 
tal. It  was  not  allowed  to  make  its  way  into  the  army. 
An  officer  in  one  of  the  legions,  a  near  relative  of  Marius, 
made  filthy  overtures  to  one  of  his  men.  Tlie  man  replied 
with  a  thrust  of  his  sword,  and  Marius  publicly  thanked 
and  decorated  him. 

The  effect  of  the  change  was  like  enchantment.  The 
delay  of  the  Germans  made  it  unnecessary  to  wait  for  them 
in  Italy.  Leaving  Catulus,  his  colleague  in  the  consul- 
ship, to  check  the  Cimbri  in  Venetia,  Marius  went  himself, 
taking  Sylla  with  him,  into  the  south  of  France.  As  the 
barbarian  host  came  on,  he  occupied  a  fortified  camp  near 
Aix.  He  allowed  the  enormous  procession  to  roll  past  him 
in  their  wagons  towards  the  Alps.  Then,  following  cau- 
tiously, he  watched  his  opportunity  to  fall  on  them.  The 
Teutons  were  brave,  but  they  had  no  longer  mere  legion- 
aries to  fight  with,  but  a  powerful  machine,  and  the  entire 
mass  of  them,  men,  women,  and  children,  in  numbers 
which,  however  uncertain,  were  rather  those  of  a  nation 
than  an  army,  werfe  swept  out  of  existence. 

The  Teutons  were  destroyed  on  the  20th  of  July,  102. 
In  the  year  following  the  same  fate  overtook  their  com- 
rades. The  Cimbri  had  forced  the  passes  through  the 
mountains.  They  had  beaten  the  unscientific  patrician 
Catulus,  and  had  driven  him  back  on  the  Po.  But  Marius 
came  to  his  rescue.  The  Cimbri  were  cut  to  pieces  near 
Mantua,  in  the  summer  of  loi,  and  Italy  was  saved. 

The  victories  of  Marius  mark  a  new  epoch  in  Roman 
history.     The  legions  were  no  longer  the  levy  of  the  citi- 


42  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  106-100 

zens  in  arms,  who  were  themselves  the  State  for  which 
they  fought.  The  legionaries  were  citizens  still.  They 
had  votes,  and  they  used  them;  but  they  were  professional 
soldiers  with  the  modes  of  thought  which  belong  to  sol- 
diers; and  beside,  the  power  of  the  hustings  was  now  the 
power  of  the  sword.  The  constitution  remained  to  appear- 
ance intact,  and  means  were  devised  sufficient  to  en- 
counter, it  might  be  supposed,  the  new  danger.  Standing 
armies  were  prohibited  in  Italy.  Victorious  generals  re- 
turning from  campaigns  abroad  were  required  to  disband 
their  legions  on  entering  the  sacred  soil.  But  the  ma- 
terials of  these  legions  remained  a  distinct  order  from  the 
rest  of  the  population,  capable  of  instant  combination,  and 
in  combination  irresistible,  save  by  opposing  combinations 
of  the  same  kind.  The  Senate  might  continue  to  debate, 
the  Comitia  might  elect  the  annual  magistrates.  The  es- 
tablished institutions  preserved  the  form  and  something 
of  the  reality  of  power  in  a  people  governed  so  much  by 
habit  as  the  Romans.  There  is  a  long  twilight  between 
the  time  when  a  god  is  first  suspected  to  be  an  idol  and  his 
final  overthrow.  But  the  aristocracy  had  made  the  first 
inroad  on  the  constitution  by  interfering  at  the  elections 
with  their  armed  followers  and  killing  their  antagonists. 
The  example  once  set  could  not  fail  to  be  repeated,  and 
the  rule  of  an  organized  force  was  becoming  the  only  pos- 
sible protection  against  the  rule  of  mobs,  patrician  or 
plebeian. 

The  danger  from  the  Germans  was  no  sooner  gone  than 
political  anarchy  broke  loose  again.  Marius,  the  man  of 
the  people,  was  the  saviour  of  his  country.  He  was  made 
consul  a  fifth  time,  and  a  sixth.  The  party  which  had 
given  him  his  command  shared,  of  course,  in  his  pre-emi- 
nence. The  elections  could  be  no  longer  interfered  with 
or  the  voters  intimidated.  The  public  offices  were  filled 
with  the  most  violent  agitators,  who  believed  that  the  time 
had  come  to  revenge  the  Gracchi,  and  carry  out  the  demo- 
cratic revolution,  to  establish  the  ideal  Republic,  and  the 
direct  rule  of  the  citizen  assembly,  t  This,  too,  was  a  chi- 


B.  c.  106-100]  MEMMIUS  43 

mera.  If  the  Roman  Senate  could  not  govern,  far  less 
could  the  Roman  mob  govern.  Marius  stood  aside,  and 
let  the  voices  rage.  He  could  not  be  expected  to  sup- 
port a  system  which  had  brought  the  country  so  near  to 
ruin.  He  had  no  belief  in  the  visions  of  the  demagogues, 
but  the  time  was  not  ripe  to  make  an  end  of  it  all.  Had 
he  tried,  the  army  would  not  have  gone  with  him,  so  he 
sat  still  till  faction  had  done  its  work.  The  popular  heroes 
of  the  hour  were  the  tribune  Saturninus  and  the  praetor 
Glaucia.  They  carried  corn  laws  and  land  laws — what- 
ever laws  they  pleased  to  propose.  The  administration 
remaining  with  the  Senate,  they  carried  a  vote  that  every 
senator  should  take  an  oath  to  execute  their  laws  under 
penalty  of  fine  and  expulsion.  Marius  did  not  like  it,  and 
even  opposed  it,  but  let  it  pass  at  last.  The  senators, 
cowed  and  humiliated,  consented  to  take  the  oath,  all  but 
one,  Marius's  old  friend  and  commander  in  Africa, 
Caecilius  Metellus.  No  stain  had  ever  rested  on  the  name 
of  Metellus.  He  had  accepted  no  bribes.  He  had  half 
beaten  Jugurtha,  for  Marius  to  finish;  and  Marius  him- 
self stood  in  a  semi-feudal  relation  to  him.  It  was  unlucky 
for  the  democrats  that  they  had  found  so  honorable  an 
opponent.  Metellus  persisted  in  refusal.  Saturninus 
sent  a  guard  to  the  senate  house,  dragged  him  out,  and 
expelled  him  from  the  city.  Aristocrats  and  their  parti- 
sans were  hustled  and  killed  in  the  street.  The  patricians 
had  spilt  the  first  blood  in  the  massacre  in  121 :  now  it  was 
the  turn  of  the  mob. 

Marius  was  an  indifferent  politician.  He  perceived  as 
well  as  anyone  that  violence  must  not  go  on,  but  he  hesi- 
tated to  put  it  down.  He  knew  that  the  aristocracy  feared 
and  hated  him.  Between  them  and  the  people's  consul 
no  alliance  was  possible.  He  did  not  care  to  alienate  his 
friends,  and  there  may  have  been  other  difificulties  which 
we  do  not  know  in  his  way.  The  army  itself  was  perhaps 
divided.  On  the  popular  side  there  were  two  parties;  a 
moderate  one,  represented  by  Memmius,  who,  as  tribune, 
had  impeached  the  senators  for  the  Jugurthine  infamies; 


44  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  106-100 

the  other,  the  advanced  radicals,  led  by  Glaucia  and  Sat- 
urninus.  Memmius  and  Glaucia  were  both  candidates  for 
the  consulship;  and  as  Memmius  was  likely  to  succeed,  he 
was  murdered. 

Revolutions  proceed  like  the  acts  of  a  drama,  and  each 
act  is  divided  into  scenes  which  follow  one  another  with 
singular  uniformity.  Ruling  powers  make  themselves 
hated  by  tyranny  and  incapacity.  An  opposition  is 
formed  against  them,  composed  of  all  sorts,  lovers  of  order 
and  lovers  of  disorder,  reasonable  men  and  fanatics,  busi- 
nesslike men  and  men  of  theory.  The  opposition  suc- 
ceeds; the  Government  is  overthrown;  the  victors  divide 
into  a  moderate  party  and  an  advanced  party.  The  ad- 
vanced party  go  to  the  front,  till  they  discredit  themselves 
with  crime  or  folly.  The  wheel  has  then  gone  round,  and 
the  reaction  sets  in.  The  murder  of  Memmius  alienated 
fatally  the  respectable  citizens.  Saturninus  and  Glaucia 
were  declared  public  enemies.  They  seized  the  Capitol, 
and  blockaded  it.  Patrician  Rome  turned  out  and  be- 
sieged them,  and  Marius  had  to  interfere.  The  dema- 
gogues and  their  friends  surrendered,  and  were  confined 
in  the  Curia  Hostilia  till  they  could  be  tried.  The  noble 
lords  could  not  allow  such  detested  enemies  the  chance  of 
an  acquittal.  To  them  a  radical  was  a  foe  of  mankind, 
to  be  hunted  down  like  a  wolf,  when  a  chance  was  offered 
to  destroy  him.  By  the  law  of  Caius  Gracchus  no  citizen 
could  be  put  to  death  without  trial.  The  persons  of  Sat- 
urninus and  Glaucia  were  doubly  sacred,  for  one  was  trib- 
une and  the  other  praetor.  But  the  patricians  were  satis- 
fied that  they  deserved  to  be  executed,  and  in  such  a  frame 
of  mind  it  seemed  but  virtue  to  execute  them.  They  tore 
off  the  roof  of  the  senate  house,  and  pelted  the  miserable 
wretches  to  death  with  stones  and  tiles. 


CHAPTER  VI 

NOT  far  from  the  scene  of  the  murder  of  Glaucia  and 
Saturninus  there  was  lying  at  this  time  in  his  cra- 
dle, or  carried  about  in  his  nurse's  arms,  a  child 
who,  in  his  manhood,  was  to  hold  an  inquiry  into  this  busi- 
ness, and  to  bring  one  of  the  perpetrators  to  answer  for 
himself.  On  the  12th  of  the  preceding  July,  B.  C.  100,^ 
was  born  into  the  world  Caius  Julius  Caesar,  the  only  son  of 
Caius  Julius  and  Aurelia,  and  nephew  of  the  then  Consul 
Marius.  His  father  had  been  praetor,  but  had  held  no 
higher  office.  Aurelia  was  a  strict  stately  lady  of  the  old 
school,  uninfected  by  the  lately  imported  fashions.  She, 
or  her  husband,  or  both  of  them,  were  rich;  but  the  habits 
of  the  household  were  simple  and  severe,  and  the  connec- 
tion with  Marius  indicates  the  political  opinions  which  pre- 
vailed in  the  family. 

No  anecdotes  are  preserved  of  Caesar's  childhood.  He 
was  taught  Greek  by  Antonius  Gnipho,  an  educated  Gaul 
from  the  north  of  Italy.  He  wrote  a  poem  when  a  boy  in 
honour  of  Hercules.  He  composed  a  tragedy  on  the  story 
of  CEdipus.  His  passionate  attachment  to  Aurelia  in  after 
years  shows  that  between  mother  and  child  the  relations 
had  been  affectionate  and,  happy.  But  there  is  nothing  to 
indicate  that  there  was  any  early  precocity  of  talent,  and 
leaving  Caesar  to  his  grammar  and  his  exercises,  we  will 
proceed  with  the  occurrences  which  he  must  have  heard 
talked  of  in  his  father's  house,  or  seen  with  his  eyes 
when  he  began  to  open  them.  The  society  there  was 
probably  composed  of  his  uncle's  friends:  soldiers  and 
statesmen  who  had  no  sympathy  with  mobs,  but  detested 
the  selfish  and  dangerous  system  on  which  the  Senate  had 
carried  on  the  government,  and  dreaded  its  consequences. 
Above  the  tumults  of  the  factions  in  the  Capitol  a  cry  ris- 

45 


46  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  100-89 

ing  into  shrillness  began  to  be  heard  from  Italy.  Caius 
Gracchus  had  wished  to  extend  the  Roman  franchise  to 
the  Italian  States,  and  the  suggestion  had  cost  him  his 
popularity  and  his  life.  The  Italian  provinces  had  fur- 
nished their  share  of  the  armies  which  had  beaten  Ju- 
gurtha,  and  had  destroyed  the  German  invaders.  They 
now  demanded  that  they  should  have  the  position  which 
Gracchus  designed  for  them:  that  they  should  be  allowed 
to  legislate  for  themselves,  and  no  longer  lie  at  the  mercy 
of  others,  who  neither  understood  their  necessities  nor 
cared  for  their  interests.  They  had  no  friends  in  the  city, 
save  a  few  far-sighted  statesmen.  Senate  and  mob  had  at 
least  one  point  of  agreement,  that  the  spoils  of  the  Empire 
should  be  fought  for  among  themselves;  and  at  the  first 
mention  of  the  invasion  of  their  monopoly  a  law  was  passed 
making  the  very  agitation  of  the  subject  punishable  by 
death. 

Political  convulsions  work  in  a  groove,  the  direction  of 
which  varies  little  in  any  age  or  country.  Institutions 
once  sufficient  and  salutary  become  unadapted  to  a  change 
of  circumstances.  The  traditionary  holders  of  power  see 
their  interests  threatened.  They  are  jealous  of  innova- 
tions. They  look  on  agitators  for  reform  as  felonious  per- 
sons desiring  to  appropriate  what  does  not  belong  to  them. 
The  complaining  parties  are  conscious  of  suffering,  and 
rush  blindly  on  the  superficial  causes  of  their  immediate 
distress.  The  existing  authority  is  their  enemy;  and  their 
one  remedy  is  a  change  in  the  system  of  government. 
They  imagine  that  they  see  what  the  change  should  be, 
that  they  comprehend  what  they  are  doing,  and  know 
where  they  intend  to  arrive.  They  do  not  perceive  that 
the  visible  disorders  are  no  more  than  symptoms  which  no 
measures,  repressive  or  revolutionary,  can  do  more  than 
palliate.  The  wave  advances  and  the  wave  recedes. 
Neither  party  in  the  struggle  can  lift  itself  far  enough 
above  the  passions  of  the  moment  to  study  the  drift  of  the 
general  current.  Each  is  violent,  each  is  one-sided,  and 
each  makes  the  most  and  the  worst  of  the  sins  of  its  op- 


B.  c.  100-89]  THE  ITALIAN  FRANCHISE  47 

ponents.  The  one  idea  of  the  aggressors  is  to  grasp  all 
that  they  can  reach.  The  one  idea  of  the  conservatives 
is  to  part  with  nothing,  pretending  that  the  stability  of  the 
State  depends  on  adherence  to  the  principles  which  have 
placed  them  in  the  position  which  they  hold;  and  as  vari- 
ous interests  are  threatened,  and  as  various  necessities 
arise,  those  who  are  one  day  enemies  are  frightened  the 
next  into  unnatural  coalitions,  and  the  next  after  into  more 
embittered  dissensions. 

To  an  indifferent  spectator,  armed  especially  with  the 
political  experiences  of  twenty  additional  centuries,  it 
seems  difBcult  to  understand  how  Italy  could  govern  the 
world.  That  the  world  and  Italy  besides  should  continue 
subject  to  the  population  of  a  single  city,  of  its  limited 
Latin  environs,  and  of  a  handful  of  townships  excep- 
tionally favoured,  might  even  then  be  seen  to  be  plainly 
impossible.  The  Italians  were  Romans  in  every  point,  ex- 
cept in  the  possession  of  the  franchise.  They  spoke  the 
same  language;  they  were  subjects  of  the  same  dominion. 
They  were  as  well  educated,  they  were  as  wealthy,  they 
were  as  capable,  as  the  inhabitants  of  the  dominant  State. 
They  paid  taxes,  they  fought  in  the  armies;  they  were 
strong;  they  were  less  corrupt,  poHtically  and  morally,  as 
having  fewer  temptations  and  fewer  opportunities  of  evil; 
and  in  their  simple  country  life  they  approached  incom- 
parably nearer  to  the  old  Roman  type  than  the  patrician 
fops  in  the  circus  or  the  Forum,  or  the  city  mob  which  was 
fed  in  idleness  on  free  grants  of  corn.  When  Samnium 
and  Tuscany  were  conquered,  a  third  of  the  lands  had  been 
confiscated  to  the  Roman  State,  under  the  name  of  Ager 
Publicus.  Samnite  and  Etruscan  gentlemen  had  recov- 
ered part  of  it  under  lease,  much  as  the  descendants  of  the 
Irish  chiefs  held  their  ancestral  domains  as  tenants  of  the 
Cromwellians.  The  land  law  of  the  Gracchi  was  well  in- 
tended, but  it  bore  hard  on  many  of  the  leading  provin- 
cials, who  had  seen  their  estates  parcelled  out,  and  their 
own  property,  as  they  deemed  it,  taken  from  them  under 
the  land  commission.     If  they  were  to  be  governed  by  Ro- 


48  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  100-89 

man  laws,  they  naturally  demanded  to  be  consulted  when 
the  laws  were  made.  They  might  have  been  content  un- 
der a  despotism,  to  which  Roman  and  Italian  were  subject 
alike.  To  be  governed  under  the  forms  of  a  free  consti- 
tution by  men  no  better  than  themselves  was  naturally  in- 
tolerable. 

The  movement  from  without  united  the  Romans  for  the 
instant  in  defence  of  their  privileges.  The  aristocracy  re- 
sisted change  from  instinct;  the  mob,  loudly  as  they  clam- 
oured for  their  own  rights,  cared  nothing  for  the  rights  of 
others,  and  the  answer  to  the  petition  of  the  ItaUans,  five 
years  after  the  defeat  of  the  Cimbri,  was  a  fierce  refusal  to 
permit  the  discussion  of  it.  Livius  Drusus,one  of  those  un- 
fortunately gifted  men  who  can  see  that  in  a  quarrel  there 
is  sometimes  justice  on  both  sides,  made  a  vain  attempt 
to  secure  the  provincials  a  hearing,  but  he  was  murdered 
in  his  own  house.  To  be  murdered  was  the  usual  end  of 
exceptionally  distinguished  Romans,  in  a  State  where  the 
lives  of  citizens  were  theoretically  sacred.  His  death  was 
the  signal  for  an  insurrection,  which  began  in  the  moun- 
tains of  the  Abruzzi  and  spread  over  the  whole  pe- 
ninsula. 

The  contrast  of  character  between  the  two  classes  of 
population  became  at  once  uncomfortably  evident.  The 
provincials  had  been  the  right  arm  of  the  Empire.  Rome, 
a  city  of  rich  men  with  families  of  slaves,  and  of  a  crowd 
of  impoverished  freemen  without  employment  to  keep 
them  in  health  and  strength,  could  no  longer  bring  into 
the  field  a  force  which  could  hold  its  ground  against  the 
gentry  and  peasants  of  Samnium.  The  Senate  enlisted 
Greeks,  Numidians,  anyone  whose  service  they  could  pur- 
chase. They  had  to  encounter  soldiers  who  had  been 
trained  and  disciplined  by  Marius,  and  they  were  taught, 
by  defeat  upon  defeat,  that  they  had  a  worse  enemy  before 
them  than  the  Germans.  Marius  himself  had  almost 
withdrawn  from  public  life.  He  had  no  heart  for 
the  quarrel,  and  did  not  care  greatly  to  exert  him- 
self.    At    the    bottom,    perhaps,    he    thought    that    the 


B.  c.  100-89]  THE    ITALIAN   WAR  49 

Italians  were  in  the  right.  The  Senate  discovered 
that  they  were  helpless,  and  must  come  to  terms  if  they 
would  escape  destruction.  They  abandoned  the  original 
point  of  difference,  and  they  offered  to  open  the  franchise 
to  every  Italian  state  south  of  the  Po,  which  had  not 
taken  arms,  or  which  returned  immediately  to  its  allegi- 
ance. The  war  had  broken  out  for  a  definite  cause. 
When  the  cause  was  removed  no  reason  remained  for  its 
continuance.  The  Italians  were  closely  connected  with 
Rome.  Italians  were  spread  over  the  Roman  world  in  ac- 
tive business.  They  had  no  wish  to  overthrow  the  Em- 
pire if  they  were  allowed  a  share  in  its  management.  The 
greater  part  of  them  accepted  the  Senate's  terms;  and  only 
those  remained  in  the  field  who  had  gone  to  war  in  the 
hope  of  recovering  the  lost  independence  which  their  an- 
cestors had  so  long  heroically  defended. 

Th^  panting  Senate  was  thus  able  to  breathe  again. 
The  war  continued,  but  under  better  auspices.  Sound 
material  could  now  be  collected  again  for  the  army. 
Marius  being  in  the  background,  the  chosen  knight  of  the 
aristocracy,  Lucius  Sylla,  whose  fame  in  the  Cimbrian  war 
had  been  only  second  to  that  of  his  commander's,  came  at 
once  to  the  front. 

Sylla,  or  Sulla,  as  we  are  now  taught  to  call  him,  was 
born  in  the  year  138  B.  C.  He  was  a  patrician  of  the 
purest  blood,  had  inherited  a  moderate  fortune,  and  had 
spent  it  like  other  young  men  of  rank,  lounging  in  theatres, 
and  amusing  himself  with  dinner-parties.  He  was  a  poet, 
an  artist,  and  a  wit,  but  each  and  everything  with  the 
languor  of  an  amateur.  His  favourite  associates  wxre  act- 
resses, and  he  had  neither  obtained  nor  aspired  to  any 
higher  reputation  than  that  of  a  cultivated  man  of  fashion. 
His  distinguished  birth  was  not  apparent  in  his  person. 
He  had  red  hair,  hard  blue  eyes,  and  a  complexion  white 
and  purple,  with  the  colours  so  ill-mixed  that  his  face  was 
compared  to  a  mulberry  sprinkled  with  flour.  Ambition 
he  appeared  to  have  none;  and  when  he  exerted  himself  to 
be  appointed  Quaestor  to  Marius  on  the  African  expedi- 
4 


So  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  100-89 

tion,  Marius  was  disinclined  to  take  him  as  having  no  rec- 
ommendation beyond  quaHfications  which  the  consul  of 
the  plebeians  disdained  and  disHked. 

Marius,  however,  soon  discovered  his  mistake.  Be- 
neath his  constitutional  indolence,  Sylla  was  by  nature  a 
soldier,  a  statesman,  a  diplomatist.  He  had  been  too  con- 
temptuous of  the  common  objects  of  politicians  to  concern 
himself  with  the  intrigues  of  the  Forum,  but  he  had  only 
to  exert  himself  to  rise  with  easy  ascendency  to  the  com- 
mand of  every  situation  in  which  he  might  be  placed.  He 
had  entered  with  military  instinct  into  Marius's  reform  of 
the  army,  and  became  the  most  active  and  useful  of  his 
officers.  He  endeared  himself  to  the  legionaries  by  a 
tolerance  of  vices  which  did  not  interfere  with  discipline; 
and  to  Sylla's  combined  adroitness  and  courage  Marius 
owed  the  final  capture  of  Jugurtha. 

Whether  Marius  became  jealous  of  Sylla  on  this  occa- 
sion must  be  decided  by  those  who,  while  they  have  no 
better  information  than  others  as  to  the  actions  of  men, 
possess,  or  claim  to  possess,  the  most  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  their  motives.  They  again  served  together, 
however,  against  the  Northern  invaders,  and  Sylla  a  sec- 
ond time  lent  efficient  help  to  give  Marius  victory.  Like 
Marius,  he  had  no  turn  for  platform  oratory,  and  little 
interest  in  election  contests  and  intrigues.  For  eight  years 
he  kept  aloof  from  politics,  and  his  name  and  that  of  his 
rival  were  alike  for  all  that  time  almost  unheard  of.  He 
emerged  into  special  notice  only  when  he  was  praetor  in 
the  year  93  B.  C,  and  when  he  characteristically  distin- 
guished his  term  of  office  by  exhibiting  a  hundred  lions  in 
the  arena  matched  against  Numidian  archers.  There  was 
no  such  road  to  popularity  with  the  Roman  multitude.  It 
is  possible  that  the  little  Caesar,  then  a  child  of  seven,  may 
have  been  among  the  spectators,  making  his  small  reflec- 
tions on  it  all. 

In  ,92  Sylla  went  as  propraetor  to  Asia,  where  the  in- 
capacity of  the  Senate's  administration  was  creating 
another  enemy  likely  to  be  troublesome.     Mithridates, 


B.  c.  100-89]  MITHRIDATES  5 1 

"  child  of  the  sun,"  pretending  to  a  descent  from  Darius 
Hystaspes,  was  king  of  Pontus,  one  of  the  semi-independ- 
ent monarchies  which  had  been  allowed  to  stand  in  Asia 
Minor.  The  coast  line  of  Pontus  extended  from  Sinope 
to  Trebizond,  and  reached  inland  to  the  line  of  mountains 
where  the  rivers  divide  which  flow  into  the  Black  Sea  and 
the  Mediterranean.  The  father  of  Mithridates  was  mur- 
dered when  he  was  a  child,  and  for  some  years  he  led  a 
wandering  life,  meeting  adventures  which  were  as  wild  and 
perhaps  as  imaginary  as  those  of  Ulysses.  In  later  life  he 
became  the  idol  of  Eastern  imagination,  and  legend  made 
free  with  his  history,  but  he  was  certainly  an  extraordinary 
man.  He  spoke  the  unnumbered  dialects  of  the  Asiatic 
tribes  among  whom  he  had  travelled.  He  spoke  Greek  with 
ease  and  freedom.  Placed,  as  he  was,  on  the  margin  where 
the  civilizations  of  the  East  and  the  West  were  brought 
in  contact,  he  was  at  once  a  barbarian  potentate  and  an 
ambitious  European  politician.  He  was  well  informed  of 
the  state  of  Rome,  and  saw  reason,  perhaps,  as  well  he 
might,  to  doubt  the  durability  of  its  power.  At  any  rate, 
he  was  no  sooner  fixed  on  his  own  throne  than  he  began 
to  annex  the  territories  of  the  adjoining  princes.  He  ad- 
vanced his  sea  frontier  through  Armenia  to  Batoum,  and 
thence  along  the  coast  of  Circassia.  He  occupied  the 
Greek  settlements  on  the  Sea  of  Azof.  He  took  Kertch 
and  the  Crimea,  and  with  the  help  of  pirates  from  the  Med- 
iterranean he  formed  a  fleet  which  gave  him  complete 
command  of  the  Black  Sea.  In  Asia  Minor  no  powe.r  but 
the  Roman  could  venture  to  quarrel  with  him.  The 
Romans  ought  in  prudence  to  have  interfered  before 
Mithridates  had  grown  to  so  large  a  bulk,  but  money  judi- 
ciously distributed  among  the  leading  politicians  had 
secured  the  Senate's  connivance;  and  they  opened  their 
eyes  at  last  only  when  Mithridates  thought  it  unnecessary 
to  subsidize  them  further,  and  directed  his  proceedings 
against  Cappadocia,  which  was  immediately  under  Roman 
protection.  He  invaded  the  country,  killed  the  prince 
whom  Rome  had  recognised,  and  placed  on  the  throne  a 


52  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.C.  100-89 

child  of  his  own,  with  the  evident  intention  of  taking  Cap- 
padocia  for  himself. 

This  was  to  go  too  far.  Like  Jugurtha,  he  ha(J  pur- 
chased many  friends  in  the  Senate,  who,  grateful  for  past 
favours  and  hoping  for  more,  prevented  the  adoption  of 
violent  measures  against  him;  but  they  sent  a  message  to 
him  that  he  must  not  have  Cappadocia,  and  Mithridates, 
waiting  for  a  better  opportunity,  thought  proper  to  com- 
ply. Of  this  message  the  bearer  was  Lucius  Sylla.  He 
had  time  to  study  on  the  spot  the  problem  of  how  to  deal 
with  Asia  Minor.  He  accomplished  his  mission  with  his 
usual  adroitness  and  apparent  success,  and  he  returned  to 
Rome  with  new  honours  to  finish  the  Social  war. 

It  was  no  easy  work.  The  Samnites  were  tough  and 
determined.  For  two  years  they  continued  to  struggle, 
and  the  contest  was  not  yet  over  when  news  came  from 
the  East  appalling  as  the  threatened  Cimbrian  invasion, 
which  brought  both  parties  to  consent  to  suspend  their 
differences  by  mutual  concessions. 

Note 
^  Page  45.  I  follow  the  ordinary  date,  which  has  been  fixed  by  the 
positive  statement  that  Caesar  was  fifty-six  when  he  was  killed,  the  date 
of  his  death  being  March  b.  c.  44.  Mommsen,  however,  argues  plaus- 
ibly for  adding  another  two  years  to  the  beginning  of  Caesar's  life,  and 
brings  him  into  the  world  at  the  time  of  the  battle  at  Aix. 


CHAPTER  VII 

BARBARIAN  kings,  who  found  Roman  senators 
ready  to  take  bribes  from  them,  beheved  not  un- 
naturally that  the  days  of  Roman  dominion  were 
numbered.  When  the  news  of  the  Social  war  reached 
Mithridates,  he  thought  it  needless  to  temporize  longer, 
and  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  seize  the  prize  of  the  do- 
minion of  the  East.  The  Armenians,  who  were  at  his  dis- 
position, broke  into  Cappadocia  and  again  overthrew  the 
government,  which  was  in  dependence  upon  Rome. 
Mithridates  himself  invaded  Bithynia,  and  replied  to  the 
remonstrances  of  the  Roman  authorities  by  a  declaration 
of  open  war.  He  called  under  arms  the  whole  force  of 
which  he  could  dispose;  frightened  rumour  spoke  of  it  as 
amounting  to  three  hundred  thousand  men.  His  corsair 
fleets  poured  down  through  the  Dardanelles  into  the 
Archipelago;  and  so  detested  had  the  Roman  governors 
made  themselves  by  their  extortion  and  injustice,  that 
not  only  all  the  islands,  but  the  provinces  on  the  con- 
tinent, Ionia,  Lydia,  and  Caria,  rose  in  revolt.  The 
rebellion  was  preconcerted  and  simultaneous.  The 
Roman  residents,  merchants,  bankers,  farmers  of  the 
taxes,  they  and  all  their  families,  were  set  upon  and  mur- 
dered; a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men,  women,  and 
children  were  said  to  have  been  destroyed  in  a  single  day. 
If  we  divide  by  ten,  as  it  is  generally  safe  to  do  with  his- 
torical round  numbers,  still  beyond  doubt  the  signal  had 
been  given  in  an  appalling  massacre  to  abolish  out  of  Asia 
the  Roman  name  and  power.  Swift  as  a  thunderbolt, 
Mithridates  himself  crossed  the  Bosphorus,  and  the  next 
news  that  reached  Rome  was  that  northern  Greece  had 
risen  also,  and  was  throwing  itself  into  the  arms  of  its 
deliverers. 

53 


54  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  89-84 

The  defeat  at  Cannae  had  been  received  with  dignified 
calm.  Patricians  and  plebeians  forgot  their  quarrels,  and 
thought  only  how  to  meet  their  common  foe.  The  massa- 
cre in  Asia  and  the  invasion  of  Mithridates  let  loose  a  tem- 
pest of  political  frenzy.  Never  was  indignation  more  de- 
served. The  Senate  had  made  no  preparation.  Such  re- 
sources as  they  could  command  had  been  wasted  in  the 
wars  with  the  Italians.  They  had  no  fleet,  they  had  no 
armies  available;  nor,  while  the  civil  war  was  raging,  could 
they  raise  an  army.  The  garrisons  in  Greece  were  scat- 
tered or  shut  in  within  their  lines  and  unable  to  move. 
The  treasury  was  empty.  Individuals  were  enormously 
rich,  and  the  State  was  bankrupt.  Thousands  of  families 
had  lost  brothers,  cousins,  or  friends  in  the  massacre,  and 
the  manifest  cause  of  the  disaster  was  the  inefficiency  and 
worthlessness  of  the  ruling  classes.  In  Africa,  in  Gaul,  in 
Italy,  and  now  in  Asia,  it  had  been  the  same  story.  The 
interests  of  the  commonwealth  had  been  sacrificed  to  fill 
the  purses  of  the  few.  Dominion,  wealth,  honours,  all  that 
had  been  won  by  the  hardy  virtues  of  earlier  generations, 
seemed  about  to  be  engulfed  forever. 

In  their  panic  the  Senate  turned  to  Sylla,  whom  they 
had  made  consul.  An  imperfect  peace  was  patched  up 
with  the  Italians.  Sylla  was  bidden  to  save  the  Republic, 
and  to  prepare  in  haste  for  Greece.  But  Sylla  was  a  bitter 
aristocrat,  the  very  incarnation  of  the  oligarchy,  who  were 
responsible  for  every  disaster  which  had  happened.  The 
Senate  had  taken  bribes  from  Jugurtha.  The  Senate  had 
chosen  the  commanders  whose  blunders  had  thrown  open 
the  Alps  to  the  Germans;  and  it  was  only  because  the 
people  had  snatched  the  power  out  of  their  hands  and  had 
trusted  it  to  one  of  themselves  that  Italy  had  not  been  in 
flames.  Again  the  oligarchy  had  recovered  the  adminis- 
tration, and  again  by  following  the  old  courses  they  had 
brought  on  this  new  catastrophe.  They  might  have 
checked  Mithridates  while  there  was  time.  They  had  pre- 
ferred to  accept  his  money  and  look  on.  The  people  nat- 
urally thought  that  no  successes  could  be  looked  for  under 


B.  c.  89-84]  MARIUS  AND   SYLLA  55 

such  guidance,  and  that,  even  were  Sylla  to  be  victorious, 
nothing  was  to  be  expected  but  the  continuance  of  the 
same  accursed  system.  Marius  was  the  man.  Marius, 
after  his  sixth  consulship,  had  travelled  in  the  East,  and 
understood  it  as  well  as  Sylla.  Not  Sylla,  but  Marius  must 
now  go  against  Mithridates.  Too  late  the  democratic 
leaders  repented  of  their  folly  in  encouraging  the  Senate 
to  refuse  the  franchise  to  the  Italians.  The  Italians,  they 
began  to  preceive,  would  be  their  surest  poHtical  allies. 
Caius  Gracchus  had  been  right  after  all.  The  Roman 
democracy  must  make  haste  to  offer  the  Italians  more  than 
all  which  the  Senate  was  ready  to  concede  to  them.  To- 
gether they  could  make  an  end  of  misrule,  and  place 
Marius  once  more  at  their  head. 

Much  of  this  was  perhaps  the  scheming  passion  of  rev- 
olution; much  of  it  was  legitimate  indignation,  penitent 
for  its  errors,  and  anxious  to  atone  for  them.  Marius  had 
his  personal  grievances.  The  aristocrats  were  stealing 
from  him  even  his  military  reputation,  and  claiming  for 
Sylla  the  capture  of  Jugurtha.  He  was  willing,  perhaps 
anxious,  to  take  the  Eastern  command.  Sulpicius  Rufus, 
once  a  champion  of  the  Senate  and  the  most  brilliant  ora- 
tor in  Rome,  went  over  to  the  people  in  the  excitement. 
Rufus  was  chosen  tribune,  and  at  once  proposed  to  en- 
franchise the  remainder  of  Italy.  He  denounced  the  oli- 
garchy. He  insisted  that  the  Senate  must  be  purged  of 
its  corrupt  members  and  better  men  be  introduced,  that 
the  people  must  depose  Sylla,  and  that  Marius  must  take 
his  place.  The  Empire  was  tottering,  and  the  mob  and  its 
leaders  were  choosing  an  ill  moment  for  a  revolution.  The 
tribune  carried  the  assembly  along  with  him.  There  were 
fights  again  in  the  Forum,  the  young  nobles  with  their 
gangs  once  more  breaking  up  the  Comitia  and  driving  the 
people  from  the  voting  places.  The  voting,  notwithstand- 
ing, was  got  through  as  Sulpicius  Rufus  recommended, 
and  Sylla,  so  far  as  the  assembly  could  do  it,  was  super- 
seded. But  Sylla  was  not  so  easily  got  rid  of.  It  was  no 
time  for  nice  considerations.     He  had  formed  an  army  in 


$6  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  89-84 

Campania  out  of  the  legions  which  had  served  against  the 
ItaHans.  He  had  made  his  soldiers  devoted  to  him.  They 
were  ready  to  go  anywhere  and  do  anything  which  Sylla 
bade  them.  After  so  many  murders  and  so  many  commo- 
tions, the  constitution  had  lost  its  sacred  character;. a  pop- 
ular assembly  was,  of  all  conceivable  bodies,  the  least  fit 
to  govern  an  Empire;  and  in  Sylla's  eyes  the  Senate,  what- 
ever its  deficiencies,  was  the  only  possible  sovereign  of 
Rome.  The  people  were  a  rabble,  and  their  voices  the 
clamour  of  fools,  who  must  be  taught  to  know  their  masters. 
His  reply  to  Sulpicius  and  to  the  vote  for  his  recall  was  to 
march  on  the  city.  He  led  his  troops  within  the  circle 
which  no  legionary  in  arms  was  allowed  to  enter,  and  he 
lighted  his  watchfires  in  the  Forum  itself.  The  people  re- 
sisted; Sulpicius  was  killed;  Marius,  the  saviour  of  his 
country,  had  to  fly  for  his  life,  pursued  by  assassins,  with  a 
price  set  upon  his  head.  Twelve  of  the  prominent  popular 
leaders  were  immediately  executed  without  trial;  and  in 
hot  haste,  swift  decisive  measures  were  taken,  which  per- 
manently, as  Sylla  hoped,  or  if  not  permanently  at  least  for 
the  moment,  would  lame  the  limbs  of  the  democracy.  The 
Senate,  being  below  its  numbers,  was  hastily  filled  up  from 
the  patrician  families.  The  arrangements  of  the  Comitia 
were  readjusted,  to  restore  to  wealth  a  decisive  preponder- 
ance in  the  election  of  the  magistrates.  The  tribunes  of 
the  people  were  stripped  of  half  their  power.  Their  vote 
was  left  to  them,  but  the  right  of  initiation  was  taken  away; 
and  no  law  or  measure  of  any  kind  was  thenceforth  to  be 
submitted  to  the  popular  assembly  till  it  had  been  con- 
sidered in  the  Curia  and  had  received  the  Senate's 
sanction. 

Thus  the  snake  was  scotched,  and  it  might  be  hoped 
would  die  of  its  wounds.  Sulpicius  and  his  brother  dema- 
gogues were  dead.  Marius  was  exiled.  Time  pressed, 
and  Sylla  could  not  wait  to  see  his  reforms  in  operation. 
Signs  became  visible  before  he  went  that  the  crisis  would 
not  pass  off  so  easily.  Fresh  consuls  had  to  be  elected. 
The  changes  in  the  method  of  voting  were  intended  to 


B.  c.  89-84]  SYLLA  57 

secure  the  return  of  the  Senate's  candidates,  and  one  of  the 
consuls  chosen,  Cnaeus  Octavius,  was  a  man  on  whom  Sylla 
could  rely.  His  colleague,  Lucius  Cinna,  though  elected 
under  the  pressure  of  the  legions,  was  of  more  doubtful 
temper.  But  Cinna  was  a  patrician,  though  given  to  pop- 
ular sentiments.  Sylla  was  impatient  to  be  going;  more 
important  work  was  waiting  for  him  than  composing  fac- 
tions in  Rome.  He  contented  himself  with  obliging  the 
new  consuls  to  take  an  oath  to  maintain  the  constitution  in 
the  shape  in  which  he  left  it,  and  he  sailed  from  Brindisi  in 
the  winter  of  B.  C.  88. 

The  campaign  of  Sylla  in  the  East  does  not  fall  to  be 
described  in  this  place.  He  was  a  sec6nd  Coriolanus,  a 
proud,  imperious  aristocrat,  contemptuous,  above  all  men 
living,  of  popular  rights;  but  he  was  the  first  soldier  of  his 
age;  he  was  himself,  though  he  did  not  know  it,  an  imper- 
sonation of  the  change  which  was  passing  over  the  Roman  ^ 
character.  He  took  with  him  at  most  30,000  men.  He 
had  no  fleet.  Had  the  corsair  squadrons  of  Mithridates 
been  on  the  alert,  they  might  have  destroyed  him  on  his 
passage.  Events  at  Rome  left  him  almost  immediately  /' 
without  support  from  Italy.  He  was  impeached,  he  was  ^ 
summoned  back.  His  troops  were  forbidden  to  obey  him, 
and  a  democratic  commander  was  sent  out  to  supersede 
him.  The  army  stood  by  their  favourite  commander. 
Sylla  disregarded  his  orders  from  home.  He  found  men 
and  money  as  he  could.  He  supported  himself  out  of  the 
countries  which  he  occupied,  without  resources  save  in  his 
own  skill  and  in  the  fidelity  and  excellence  of  his  legions. 
He  defeated  Mithridates,  he  drove  him  back  out  of  Greece 
and  pursued  him  into  Asia.  The  interests  of  his  party 
demanded  his  presence  at  Rome;  the  interests  of  the  State 
required  that  he  should  not  leave  his  work  in  the  East  un- 
finished; and  he  stood  to  it  through  four  hard  years  till  he 
brought  Mithridates  to  sue  for  peace  upon  his  knees.  He 
had  not  the  means  to  complete  the  conquest  or  completely 
to  avenge  the  massacre  with  which  the  Prince  of  Pontus 
had  commenced  the  war.     He  left  Mithridates  still  in  pos- 


58  JULIUS  CESAR  [B.  c.  89-84 

session  of  his  hereditary  kingdom;  but  he  left  him  bound, 
so  far  as  treaties  could  bind  so  ambitious  a  spirit,  to  remain 
thenceforward  within  his  own  frontiers.  He  recovered 
Greece  and  the  Islands,  and  the  Roman  provinces  in  Asia 
Minor.  He  extorted  an  indemnity  of  five  millions,  and 
executed  many  of  the  wretches  who  had  been  active  in  the 
murders.  He  raised  a  fleet  in  Egypt,  with  which  he  drove 
the  pirates  out  of  the  Archipelago  back  into  their  own 
waters.  He  restored  the  shattered  prestige  of  Roman 
authority,  and  he  won  for  himself  a  reputation  which  his 
later  cruelties  might  stain,  but  could  not  efiface. 

The  merit  of  Sylla  shows  in  more  striking  colours  when 
we  look  to  what  was  passing,  during  these  four  years  of 
his  absence,  in  the  heart  of  the  Empire.  He  was  no  sooner 
out  of  Italy  than  the  democratic  party  rose,  with  Cinna  at 
their  head,  to  demand  the  restoration  of  the  old  constitu- 
tion. Cinna  had  been  sworn  to  maintain  Sylla's  reforms, 
but  no  oath  could  be  held  binding  which  was  extorted  at 
the  sword's  point.  A  fresh  Sulpicius  was  found  in  Carbo, 
a  popular  tribune.  A  more  valuable  supporter  was  found 
in  Quintus  Sertorius,  a  soldier  of  fortune,  but  a  man  of 
real  gifts,  and  even  of  genius.  Disregarding  the  new  ob- 
ligation to  obtain  the  previous  consent  of  the  Senate,  Cinna 
called  the  assembly  together  to  repeal  the  acts  which  Sylla 
had  forced  on  them.  Sylla,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  had  as 
yet  won  no  victories,  nor  was  expected  to  win  victories. 
He  was  the  favourite  of  the  Senate,  and  the  Senate  had  be- 
come a  byword  for  incapacity  and  failure.  Again,  as  so 
many  times  before,  the  supremacy  of  the  aristocrats  had 
been  accompanied  with  dishonour  abroad,  and  the  lawless 
murder  of  political  adversaries  at  home.  No  true  lover 
of  his  country  could  be  expected,  in  Cinna's  opinion,  to  sit 
quiet  under  a  tyranny  which  had  robbed  the  people  of  their 
hereditary  liberties. 

The  patricians  took  up  the  challenge.  Octavius,  the 
other  consul,  came  with  an  armed  force  into  the  Forum, 
and  ordered  the  assembly  to  disperse.  The  crowd  was 
unusually  great.     The  country  voters  had  come  in  large 


B.  c.  89-84J  MARIUS  AND  CINNA  59 

numbers  to  stand  up  for  their  rights.  They  did  not  obey. 
They  were  not  called  on  to  obey.  But  because  they  re- 
fused to  disperse  they  were  set  upon  with  deliberate  fury, 
and  were  hewn  down  in  heaps  where  they  stood.  No 
accurate  register  was  of  course  taken  of  the  numbers  killed; 
but  the  intention  of  the  patricians  was  to  make  a  bloody 
example,  and  such  a  scene  of  slaughter  had  never  been 
witnessed  in  Rome  since  the  first  stone  of  the  city  was  laid. 
It  was  an  act  of  savage,  ruthless  ferocity,  certain  to  be 
followed  with  a  retribution  as  sharp  and  as  indiscriminat- 
ing.  Men  are  not  permitted  to  deal  with  their  fellow 
creatures  in  these  methods.  Cinna  and  the  tribunes  fied, 
but  fled  only  to  be  received  with  open  arms  by  the  Italians. 
The  wounds  of  the  Social  war  were  scarcely  cicatrized,  and 
the  peace  had  left  the  allies  imperfectly  satisfied.  Their 
dispersed  armies  gathered  again  about  Cinna  and  Ser- 
torius.  Old  Marius,  who  had  been  hunted  through  marsh 
and  forest,  and  had  been  hiding  with  difficulty  in  Africa, 
came  back  at  the  news  that  Italy  had  risen  ag^in;  and  six 
thousand  of  his  veterans  flocked  to  him  at  the  sound  of  his 
name.  The  Senate  issued  proclamations.  The  limita- 
tions on  the  Italian  franchise  left  by  Sylla  were  abandoned. 
Every  privilege  which  had  been  asked  for  was  conceded. 
It  was  too  late.  Concessions  made  in  fear  might  be  with- 
drawn on  the  return  of  safety.  Marius  and  Cinna  joined 
their  forces.  The  few  troops  in  the  pay  of  the  Senate  de- 
serted to  them.  They  appeared  together  at  the  gates  of 
the  city,  and  Rome  capitulated. 

There  was  a  bloody  score  to  be  wiped  out.  There  would 
have  been  neither  cruelty  nor  injustice  in  the  most  severe 
inquiry  into  the  massacre  in  the  Forum,  and  the  most  ex- 
emplary punishment  of  Octavius  and  his  companions. 
But  the  blood  of  the  people  was  up,  and  they  had  suffered 
too  deeply  to  wait  for  the  tardy  processes  of  law.  They 
had  not  been  the  aggressors.  They  had  assembled  law- 
fully to  assert  their  constitutional  rights;  they  had  been  cut 
in  pieces  as  if  they  had  been  insurgent  slaves,  and  the  assas- 
sins were  not  individuals,  but  a  political  party  in  the  State. 


6o  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  89-84 

Marius  bears  the  chief  blame  for  the  scenes  which  fol- 
lowed. Undoubtedly  he  was  in  no  pleasant  humour.  A 
price  had  been  set  on  his  head,  his  house  had  been  de- 
stroyed, his  property  had  been  confiscated,  he  himself  had 
been  chased  like  a  wild  beast,  and  he  had  not  deserved  such 
treatment.  He  had  saved  Italy  when  but  for  him  it  would 
have  been  wasted  by  the  swords  of  the  Germans.  His 
power  had  afterwards  been  absolute,  but  he  had  not  abused 
it  for  party  purposes.  The  Senate  had  no  reason  to  com- 
plain of  him.  He  had  touched  none  of  their  privileges, 
incapable  and  dishonest  as  he  knew  them  to  be.  His 
crime  in  their  eyes  had  been  his  eminence.  They  had  now 
shown  themselves  as  cruel  as  they  were  worthless;  and  if 
public  justice  was  disposed  to  make  an  end  of  them,  he  saw 
no  cause  for  interference. 

Thus  the  famiUar  story  repeated  itself;  wrong  was  pun- 
ished by  wrong,  and  another  item  was  entered  on  the 
bloody  account  which  was  being  scored  up  year  after  year. 
The  noble  lords  and  their  friends  had  killed  the  people  in 
the  Forum.  They  were  killed  in  turn  by  the  soldiers  of 
Marius.  Fifty  senators  perished,  not  those  who  were 
specially  guilty,  but  those  who  were  most  politically 
marked  as  patrician  leaders.  With  them  fell  a  thousand 
equites,  commoners  of  fortune,  who  had  thrown  in  their 
lot  with  the  aristocracy.  From  retaliatory  political  re- 
venge the  transition  was  easy  to  pillage  and  wholesale 
murder;  and  for  many  days  the  wretched  city  was  made  a 
prey  to  robbers  and  cut-throats. 

So  ended  the  year  ^y,  the  darkest  and  bloodiest  which 
the  guilty  city  had  yet  experienced.  Marius  and  Cinna 
were  chosen  consuls  for  the  year  ensuing,  and  a  witches' 
prophecy  was  fulfilled,  that  Marius  should  have  a  seventh 
consulate.  But  the  glory  had  departed  from  him.  His 
sun  was  already  setting,  redly,  among  crimson  clouds.  He 
lived  but  a  fortnight  after  his  inauguration,  and  he  died  in 
his  bed  on  the  13th  of  January,  at  the  age  of  seventy-one. 

"  The  mother  of  the  Gracchi,"  said  Mirabeau,  ''  cast  the 
dust  of  her  murdered  sons  into  the  air,  and  out  of  it  sprang 


B.  c.  89-84]  THE   DEMOCRATIC   REVOLUTION  61 

Caius  Marius."  The  Gracchi  were  perhaps  not  forgotten 
in  the  retribution ;  but  the  crime  which  had  been  revenged 
by  Marius  was  the  massacre  in  the  Forum  by  Octavius 
and  his  friends.  The  aristocracy  found  no  mercy,  because 
they  had  shown  no  mercy.  They  had  been  guilty  of  the 
most  wantonly  wicked  cruelty  which  the  Roman  annals 
had  yet  recorded.  They  were  not  defending  their 
country  against  a  national  danger.  They  were  engaged 
in  what  has  been  called  in  later  years  "  saving  society," 
that  is  to  say,  in  saving  their  own  privileges,  their  oppor- 
tunities for  plunder,  their  palaces,  their  estates,  and  their 
game  preserves.  They  had  treated  the  people  as  if  they 
were  so  many  cattle  grown  troublesome  to  their  masters, 
and  the  cattle  were  human  beings  with  rights  as  real  as 
their  own. 

The  democratic  party  were  now  masters  of  the  situation, 
and  so  continued  for  almost  four  years.  Cinna  succeeded 
to  the  consulship  term  after  term,  nominating  himself 
and  his  colleagues.  The  franchise  was  given  to  the 
Italians  without  reserve  or  qualification.  Northern  Italy 
was  still  excluded,  being  not  called  Italy,  but  Cisalpine 
Gaul.  South  of  the  Po  distinctions  of  citizenship  ceased 
to  exist.  The  constitution  became  a  rehearsal  of  the  Em- 
pire, a  democracy  controlled  and  guided  by  a  popular  Dic- 
tator. The  aristocrats  who  had  escaped  massacre  filed  to 
Sylla  in  Asia,  and  for  a  brief  interval  Rome  drew  its  breath 
in  peace. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

REVOLUTIONARY  periods  are  painted  in  history 
in  colours  so  dark  that  the  reader  wonders  how, 
-  amidst  such  scenes,  peaceful  human  beings  could 
continue  to  exist.  He  forgets  that  the  historian  describes 
only  the  abnormal  incidents  which  broke  the  current  of 
ordinary  life,  and  that  between  the  spasms  of  violence  there 
were  long  quiet  intervals  when  the  ordinary  occupations 
of  men  went  on  as  usual.  Cinna's  continuous  consulship 
was  uncomfortable  to  the  upper  classes,  but  the  daily  busi- 
ness of  a  great  city  pursued  its  beaten  way.  Tradesmen 
and  merchants  made  money,  and  lawyers  pleaded,  and 
priests  prayed  in  the  temples,  and  "  celebrated  "  on  festival 
and  holy  day.  And  now  for  the  first  time  we  catch  a  per- 
sonal view  of  young  Julius  Caesar.  He  was  growing  up, 
in  his  father's  house,  a  tall  slight  handsome  youth,  with 
dark  piercing  eyes,^  a  sallow  complexion,  large  nose,  lips 
full,  features  refined  and  intellectual,  neck  sinewy  and 
thick,  beyond  what  might  have  been  expected  from  the 
generally  slender  figure.  He  was  particular  about  his  ap- 
pearance, used  the  bath  frequently,  and  attended  carefully 
to  his  hair.  His  dress  was  arranged  with  studied  negli- 
gence, and  he  had  a  loose  mode  of  fastening  his  girdle  so 
peculiar  as  to  catch  the  eye. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  he  had  witnessed  Sylla's  coming 
to  Rome,  the  camp-fires  in  the  Forum,  the  Octavian  massa- 
-cre,  the  return  of  his  uncle  and  Cinna,  and  the  bloody 
triumph  of  the  party  to  which  his  father  belonged.  He 
was  just  at  the  age  when  such  scenes  make  an  indelible  im- 
pression; and  the  connection  of  his  family  with  Marius 
suggests  easily  the  persons  whom  he  must  have  most  often 
seen,  and  the  conversation  to  which  he  must  have  listened 
at  his  father's  table.  His  most  intimate  companions  were 
the  younger  Marius,  the  adopted  son  of  his  uncle;  and, 

6a 


B.  c.  84-78]  YOUTH  AND   MARRIAGE  63 

singularly  enough,  the  two  Ciceros,  Marcus  and  his  brother 
Quintus,  who  had  been  sent  by  their  father  to  be  educated 
at  Rome.  The  connection  of  Marius  with  Arpinum  was 
perhaps  the  origin  of  the  intimacy.  The  great  man  may 
have  heard  of  his  fellow-townsman's  children  being  in  the 
city,  and  have  taken  notice  of  them.  Certain,  at  any  rate, 
it  is  that  these  boys  grew  up  together  on  terms  of  close 
familiarity.^ 

Marius  had  observed  his  nephew,  and  had  marked  him 
for  promotion.  During  the  brief  fortnight  of  his  seventh 
consulship  he  gave  him  an  appointment,  which  reminds 
us  of  the  boy-bishops  of  the  Middle  Ages.  He  made  him 
flamen  dialis,  or  priest  of  Jupiter,  and  a  member  of  the 
Sacred  College,  with  a  handsome  income,  when  he  was  no 
more  than  fourteen.  Two  years  later,  during  the  rule  of 
Cinna,  his  father  arranged  a  marriage  for  him  with  a  lady 
of  fortune  named  Cossutia.  But  the  young  Caesar  had 
more  ambitious  views  for  himself.  His  father  died  sud- 
denly at  Pisa,  in  B.  C.  84;  he  used  his  freedom  to  break  off 
his  engagement,  and  instead  of  Cossutia  he  married  Cor- 
nelia, the  daughter  of  no  less  a  person  than  the  all-power- 
ful Cinna  himself.  If  the  date  commonly  received  for 
Caesar's  birth  is  correct,  he  was  still  only  in  his  seventeenth 
year.  Such  connections  were  rarely  formed  at  an  age  so 
premature;  and  the  doubt  is  increased  by  the  birth  of  his 
daughter,  Julia,  in  the  year  following.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
a  marriage  into  Cinna's  family  connected  Caesar  more 
closely  than  ever  with  the  popular  party.  Thus  early  and 
thus  definitely  he  committed  himself  to  the  poHtics  of  his 
uncle  and  his  father-in-law;  and  the  comparative  quiet 
which  Rome  and  Italy  enjoyed  under  Cinna's  administra- 
tion may  have  left  a  permanent  impression  upon  him. 

The  quiet  was  not  destined  to  be  of  long  endurance. 
The  time  was  come  when  Sylla  was  to  demand  a  reckoning 
for  all  which  had  been  done  in  his  absence.  No  Roman 
general  had  deserved  better  of  his  country  than  Sylla.  He 
had  driven  Mithridates  out  of  Greece,  and  had  restored 
Roman  authority  in  Asia  under  conditions  peculiarly  diffi- 


64  JULIUS   CiESAR  [B.  c.  84-78 

cult.  He  had  clung  resolutely  to  his  work,  while  his 
friends  at  home  were  being  trampled  upon  by  the  populace 
whom  he  despised.  He  perhaps  knew  that  in  subduing 
the  enemies  of  the  State  by  his  own  individual  energy  he 
was  taking  the  surest  road  to  regain  his  ascendency.  His 
task  was  finished.  Mithridates  was  once  more  a  petty 
Asiatic  prince  existing  upon  sufferance,  and  Sylla  an- 
nounced his  approaching  return  to  Italy.  By  his  victories 
he  had  restored  confidence  to  the  aristocracy,  and  had  won 
the  respect  of  millions  of  his  countrymen.  But  the  party 
in  power  knew  well  that  if  he  gained  a  footing  in  Italy, 
their  day  was  over,  and  the  danger  to  be  expected  from 
him  was  aggravated  by  his  transcendent  services.  The 
Italians  feared  naturally  that  they  would  lose  the  liberties 
which  they  had  won.  The  popular  faction  at  Rome  was 
combined  and  strong,  and  was  led  by  men  of  weight  and 
practical  ability.  No  reconciliation  was  possible  between 
Cinna  and  Sylla.  They  were  the  respective  chiefs  of  heaven 
and  hell,  and  which  of  the  two  represented  the  higher 
power  and  which  the  lower  could  only  be  determined  when 
the  sword  had  decided  between  them.  In  Cinna  lay  the 
presumed  lawful  authority.  He  represented  the  people  as 
organized  in  the  Comitia;  and  his  colleague  in  the  consul- 
ship when  the  crisis  came  was  the  popular  tribune,  Carbo. 
Italy  was  ready  with  armies;  and  as  leaders  there  were 
young  Marius,  already  with  a  promise  of  greatness  in  him, 
and  Sertorius,  gifted,  brilliant,  unstained  by  crime,  adored 
by  his  troops  as  passionately  as  Sylla  himself,  and  destined 
to  win  a  place  for  himself  elsewhere  in  the  Pantheon  of 
Rome's  most  distinguished  men. 

Sylla  had  measured  the  difficulty  of  the  task  which  lay 
before  him.  But  he  had  an  army  behind  him  accustomed 
to  victory,  and  recruited  by  thousands  of  exiles  who  had 
fled  from  the  rule  of  the  democracy.  He  had  now  a  fleet 
to  cover  his  passage;  and  he  was  watching  the  movements 
of  his  enemies  before  deciding  upon  his  own,  when  acci- 
dent came  suddenly  to  his  help.  Cinna  had  gone  down  to 
Brindisi,  intending  himself  to  carry  his  army  into  Greece, 


B.C.  84-78]  RETURN  OF   SYLLA  65 

and  to  spare  Italy  the  miseries  of  another  civil  war,  by 
fighting  it  out  elsewhere.  The  expedition  was  unpopular 
with  the  soldiers,  and  Cinna  was  killed  in  a  mutiny.  The 
democracy  was  thus  left  without  a  head,  and  the  moderate 
party  in  the  city  who  desired  peace  and  compromise  used 
the  opportunity  to  elect  two  neutral  consuls,  Scipio  and 
Norbanus.  Sylla,  perhaps  supposing  the  change  of  feel- 
ing to  be  more  complete  than  it  really  was,  at  once  opened 
communications  with  them.  But  his  terms  were  such  as 
he  might  have  dictated  if  the  popular  party  were  already 
under  his  feet.  He  intended  to  re-enter  Rome  with  the 
glory  of  his  conquests  about  him,  for  revenge,  and  a 
counter  revolution.  The  consuls  replied  with  refusing  to 
treat  with  a  rebel  in  arms,  and  with  a  command  to  disband 
his  troops. 

Sylla  had  lingered  at  Athens,  collecting  paintings  and 
statues  and  manuscripts,  the  rarest  treasures  on  which  he 
could  lay  his  hands,  to  decorate  his  Roman  palace.  On 
receiving  the  consuls'  answer  he  sailed  for  Brindisi  in  the 
spring  of  83,  with  forty  thousand  legionaries  and  a  large 
fleet.  The  south  of  Italy  made  no  resistance,  and  he  se- 
cured a  standing  ground  where  his  friends  could  rally  to 
him.  They  came  in  rapidly,  some  for  the  cause  which  he 
represented,  some  for  private  hopes  or  animosities,  some 
as  aspiring  military  adventurers,  seeking  the  patronage  of 
the  greatest  soldier  of  the  age.  Among  these  last  came 
Cnseus  Pompey,  afterwards  Pompey  the  Great,  son  of 
Pompey,  surnamed  Strabo  or  the  squint-eyed,  either  from 
some  personal  deformity,  or  because  he  had  trimmed  be- 
tween the  two  factions,  and  was  distrusted  and  hated  by 
them  both. 

Cnseus  Pompey  had  been  born  in  the  same  year  with 
Cicero,  and  was  now  twenty-three.  He  was  a  high- 
spirited  ornamental  youth,  with  soft  melting  eyes,  as  good 
as  he  was  beautiful,  and  so  delightful  to  women  that  it  was 
said  they  all  longed  to  bite  him.  The  Pompeys  had  been 
hardly  treated  by  Cinna.  The  father  had  been  charged 
with  embezzlement.     The  family  house  in  Rome  had  been 


(i6  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  84-78 

confiscated;  the  old  Strabo  had  been  killed;  the  son  had 
retired  to  his  family  estate  in  Picenum,^  where  he  was  liv- 
ing when  Sylla  landed.  To  the  young  Roman  chivalry, 
Sylla  was  a  hero  of  romance.  Pompey  raised  a  legion  out 
of  his  friends  and  tenants,  scattered  the  few  companies  that 
tried  to  stop  him,  and  rushed  to  the  side  of  his  deUverer. 
Others  came,  like  Sergius  Catiline  or  Oppianicus  of  La- 
rino,*  men  steeped  in  crime,  stained  with  murder,  incest, 
adultery,  forgery,  and  meaning  to  secure  the  fruits  of  their 
villainies  by  well-timed  service.  They  were  all  welcome, 
and  Sylla  was  not  particular.  His  progress  was  less  rapid 
than  it  promised  to  be  at  the  outset.  He  easily  defeated 
Norbanus;  and  Scipio's  troops,  having  an  aristocratic 
leaven  in  them,  deserted  to  him.  But  the  Italians,  espe- 
cially the  Samnites,  fought  most  desperately.  The  war 
lasted  for  more  than  a  year,  Sylla  slowly  advancing.  The 
Roman  mob  became  furious.  They  believed  their  cause 
betrayed,  and  were  savage  from  fear  and  disappointment. 
Suspected  patricians  were  murdered:  among  them  fell  the 
Pontifex  Maximus,  the  venerable  Scaevola.  At  length  the 
contest  ended  in  a  desperate  fight  under  the  walls  of  Rome 
itself  on  the  ist  of  November,  B.  C.  82.  The  battle  began 
at  four  in  the  afternoon,  and  lasted  through  the  night  to 
the  dawn  of  the  following  day.  The  popular  army  was  at 
last  cut  to  pieces,  a  few  thousand  prisoners  were  taken, 
but  they  were  murdered  afterwards  in  cold  blood.  Young 
Marius  killed  himself,  Sertorius  fied  to  Spain,  and  Sylla 
and  the  aristocracy  were  masters  of  Rome  and  Italy.  Such 
provincial  towns  as  continued  to  resist  were  stormed  and 
given  up  to  pillage,  every  male  inhabitant  being  put  to 
the  sword.  At  Norba,  in  Latium,  the  desperate  citizens 
fired  their  own  houses  and  perished  by  each  other's  hands. 
Sylla  was  under  no  illusions.  He  understood  the  prob- 
lem which  he  had  in  hand.  He  knew  that  the  aristocracy 
were  detested  by  nine-tenths  of  the  people;  he  knew  that 
they  deserved  to  be  detested;  but  they  were  at  least  gentle- 
men by  birth  and  breeding.  The  democrats,  on  the  other 
hand,  were  insolent  upstarts,  who,  instead  of  being  grate- 


B.  c.  84-78]       PROSCRIPTION  OF  THE  DEMOCRATS  67 

ful  for  being  allowed  to  live  and  work  and  pay  taxes  and 
serve  in  the  army,  had  dared  to  claim  a  share  in  the  gov- 
ernment, had  turned  against  their  masters,  and  had  set 
their  feet  upon  their  necks.  The  miserable  multitude 
were  least  to  blame.  They  were  ignorant,  and  without 
leaders  could  be  controlled  easily.  The  guilt  and  the 
danger  lay  with  the  men  of  wealth  and  intellect,  the  country 
gentlemen,  the  minority  of  knights  and  patricians  like 
Cinna,  who  had  taken  the  popular  side  and  had  deserted 
their  own  order.  Their  motives  mattered  not;  some  might 
have  acted  from  foolish  enthusiasm;  some  from  personal 
ambition ;  but  such  traitors,  from  the  Gracchi  onwards,  had 
caused  all  the  mischief  which  had  happened  to  the  State. 
They  were  determined,  they  were  persevering.  No  con- 
cessions had  satisfied  them,  and  one  demand  had  been  a 
prelude  to  another.  There  was  no  hope  for  an  end  of  agi- 
tation, till  every  one  of  these  men  had  been  rooted  out, 
their  estates  taken  from  them,  and  their  families  destroyed. 
To  this  remarkable  work  Sylla  addressed  himself,  un- 
conscious that  he  was  attempting  an  impossibility, 
that  opinion  could  not  be  controlled  by  the  sword, 
and  that  for  every  enemy  to  the  oligarchy  that  he 
killed  he  would  create  twenty  by  his  cruelty.  Like 
Marius  after  the  Octavian  massacre,  he  did  not  at- 
tempt to  distinguish  between  degrees  of  culpability. 
Guilt  was  not  the  question  with  him.  His  object 
was  less  to  punish  the  past,  than  to  prevent  a  recur- 
rence of  it;  and  moderate  opposition  was  as  objectionable 
as  fanaticism  and  frenzy.  He  had  no  intention  of  keeping 
power  in  his  own  hands.  Personal  supremacy  might  end 
with  himself;  and  he  intended  to  create  institutions  which 
would  endure,  in  the  form  of  a  close  senatorial  monopoly. 
But  for  his  purpose  it  would  be  necessary  to  remove  out  of 
the  way  every  single  person,  either  in  Rome  or  in  the 
provinces,  who  was  in  a  position  to  offer  active  resistance, 
and,  therefore,  for  the  moment  he  required  complete  free- 
dom of  action.  The  Senate  at  his  direction  appointed  him 
Dictator,  and  in  this  capacity  he  became  absolute  master 


68  JULIUS   CiESAR  [B.  c.  84-78 

of  the  life  and  property  of  every  man  and  woman  in  Italy. 
He  might  be  impeached  afterwards  and  his  policy  reversed, 
but  while  his  office  lasted  he  could  do  what  he  pleased. 

He  at  once  outlawed  every  magistrate,  every  public  ser- 
vant of  any  kind,  civil  or  municipal,  who  had  held  office 
under  the  rule  of  Cinna.  Lists  were  drawn  for  him  of  the 
persons  of  wealth  and  consequence  all  over  Italy  who  be- 
longed to  the  liberal  party.  He  selected  agents  whom  he 
could  trust,  or  supposed  he  could  trust,  to  enter  the  names 
for  each  district.  He  selected,  for  instance,  Oppianicus  of 
Larino,  who  inscribed  individuals  whom  he  had  already 
murdered,  and  their  relations  whose  prosecution  he 
feared.  It  mattered  little  to  Sylla  who  were  included,  if 
none  escaped  who  were  really  dangerous  to  him;  and  an 
order  was  issued  for  the  slaughter  of  the  entire  number,  the 
confiscation  of  their  property,  and  the  division  of  it  be- 
tween the  informers  and  Sylla's  friends  and  soldiers. 
Private  interest  was  thus  called  in  to  assist  political  ani- 
mosity; and  to  stimulate  the  zeal  for  assassination  a  reward 
of  500I.  was  offered  for  the  head  of  any  person  whose  name 
was  in  the  schedule. 

It  was  one  of  those  deliberate  acts,  carried  out  with 
method  and  order,  which  are  possible  only  in  countries 
in  an  advanced  stage  of  civilization,  and  which  show  how 
thin  is  the  film  spread  over  human  ferocity  by  what  is 
called  progress  and  culture.  We  read  in  every  page  of 
history  of  invasions  of  hostile  armies,  of  towns  and  villages 
destroyed,  and  countries  wasted  and  populations  perishing 
of  misery;  the  simplest  war  brings  a  train  of  horrors  behind 
it;  but  we  bear  them  with  comparative  equanimity.  Per- 
sonal hatreds  are  not  called  out  on  such  occasions.  The 
actors  in  them  are  neither  necessarily  nor  generally  fiends. 
The  grass  grows  again  on  the  trampled  fields.  Peace  re- 
turns, and  we  forget  and  forgive.  The  coldly  ordered 
massacres  of  selected  victims  in  political  and  spiritual 
struggles  rise  in  a  different  order  of  feelings,  and  are  re- 
membered through  all  ages  with  indignation  and  shame. 
The  victims  perish  as  the  champions  of  principles  which 


B.  c.  84-78]  PROSCRIPTION   OF  THE   DEMOCRATS  69 

survive  through  the  changes  of  time.  They  are  marked 
for  the  sacrifice  on  account  of  their  advocacy  of  a  cause 
which  to  half  mankind  is  the  cause  of  humanity.  They 
are  the  martys  of  history,  and  the  record  of  atrocity  rises 
again  in  immortal  witness  against  the  opinions  out  of 
which  it  rose. 

Patricians  and  plebeians,  aristocrats  and  democrats, 
have  alike  stained  their  hands  with  blood  in  the  working 
out  of  the  problem  of  politics.  But  impartial  history  also 
declares  that  the  crimes  of  the  popular  party  have  in  all 
ages  been  the  lighter  in  degree,  while  in  themselves  they 
have  more  to  excuse  them;  and  if  the  violent  acts  of  revo- 
lutionists have  been  held  up  more  conspicuously  for  con- 
demnation, it  had  been  only  because  the  fate  of  noblemen 
and  gentlemen  has  been  more  impressive  to  the  imagina- 
tion than  the  fate  of  the  peasant  or  the  artisan.  But  the 
endurance  of  the  inequalities  of  life  by  the  poor  is  the 
marvel  of  human  society.  When  the  people  complain,  said 
Mirabeau,  the  people  are  always  right.  The  popular  cause 
has  been  the  cause  of  the  labourer  struggling  for  a  right  to 
live  and  breathe  and  think  as  a  man.  Aristocracies  fight 
for  wealth  and  power,  wealth  which  they  waste  upon  lux- 
ury, and  power  which  they  abuse  for  their  own  interests. 
Yet  the  cruelties  of  Marius  were  as  far  exceeded  by  the 
cruelties  of  Sylla  as  the  insurrection  of  the  beggars  of  Hol- 
land was  exceeded  by  the  bloody  tribunal  of  the  Duke  of 
Alva;  or  as  "  the  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution  "  were 
exceeded  by  the  massacre  of  the  Huguenots  two  hundred 
years  before,  for  which  the  Revolution  was  the  expiatory 
atonement. 

Four  thousand  seven  hundred  persons  fell  in  the  pro- 
scription of  Sylla,  all  men  of  education  and  fortune.  The 
real  crime  of  many  of  them  was  the  possession  of  an  estate 
or  a  wife  which  a  relative  or  a  neighbour  coveted.  The 
crime  alleged  against  all  was  the  opinion  that  the  people 
of  Rome  and  Italy  had  rights  which  deserved  considera- 
tion as  well  as  the  senators  and  nobles.  The  liberal  party 
were  extinguished  in  their  own  blood.     Their  estates  were 


70  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  84-78 

partitioned  into  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  allot- 
ments, which  were  distributed  among  Sylla's  friends,  or 
soldiers,  or  freedmen.  The  Land  reform  of  the  Gracchi 
was  mockingly  adopted  to  create  a  permanent  aristocratic 
garrison.  There  were  no  trials,  there  were  no  pardons. 
Common  report  or  private  information  was  at  once  indict- 
ment and  evidence,  and  accusation  was  in  itself  condemna- 
tion. 

The  ground  being  thus  cleared,  the  Dictator  took  up 
again  his  measures  of  political  reform.  He  did  not  at- 
tempt a  second  time  to  take  the  franchise  from  the  Italians. 
Romans  and  Italians  he  was  ready  to  leave  on  the  same 
level,  but  it  was  to  be  a  level  of  impotence.  Rome  was  to 
be  ruled  by  the  Senate,  and  as  a  first  step,  and  to  protect 
the  Senate's  dignity,  he  enfranchised  ten  thousand  slaves 
who  had  belonged  to  the  proscribed  gentlemen,  and 
formed  them  into  a  senatorial  guard.  Before  departing 
for  the  East,  he  had  doubled  the  Senate's  numbers  out  of 
the  patrician  order.  Under  Cinna  the  new  members  had 
not  claimed  their  privilege,  and  had  probably  been  absent 
from  Italy.  They  were  now  installed  in. their  places,  and 
the  power  of  the  censors  to  revise  the  list  and  remove 
those  who  had  proved  unworthy  was  taken  away.  The 
senators  were  thus  peers  for  life,  peers  in  a  single  chamber 
which  Sylla  meant  to  make  omnipotent.  Vacancies  were 
to  be  supplied  as  before  from  the  retiring  consuls,  praetors, 
sediles,  and  quaestors.  The  form  of  a  popular  constitution 
would  remain,  since  the  road  into  the  council  of  State  lay 
through  the  popular  elections.  But  to  guard  against 
popular  favourites  finding  access  to  the  consulship,  a  pro- 
vision was  made  that  no  person  who  had  been  a  tribune  of 
the  people  could  be  chosen  afterward  to  any  other  office. 

The  Senate's  power  depended  on  the  withdrawal  from 
the  assembly  of  citizens  of  the  right  of  original  legislation. 
So  long  as  the  citizens  could  act  immediately  at  the  invita- 
tion of  either  consul  or  tribune  they  could  repeal  at  their 
pleasure  any  arrangement  which  Sylla  might  prescribe. 
As  a  matter  of  course,  therefore,  he  re-enacted  the  con- 


B.C.  84-78]  SYLLA'S   REFORMS  7 1 

dition  which  restricted  the  initiation  of  laws  to  the  Senate. 
The  tribunes  still  retained  their  veto,  but  a  penalty  was 
attached  to  the  abuse  of  the  veto;  the  Senate  being  the 
judge  in  its  own  cause,  and  possessing  the  right  to  depose 
a  tribune. 

In  the  Senate  so  reconstituted  was  thus  centred  a  com- 
plete restrictive  control  over  the  legislation  and  the  admin- 
istration. And  this  was  not  all.  The  senators  had  been 
so  corrupt  in  the  use  of  their  judicial  functions  that  Grac- 
chus had  disabled  them  from  sitting  in  the  law  courts,  and 
had  provided  that  the  judges  should  be  chosen  in  future 
from  the  Equites.  The  knights  had  been  exceptionally- 
pure  in  their  office.  Cicero  challenged  his  opponents  on 
the  trial  of  Verres  ^  to  find  a  single  instance  in  which  an 
Equestrian  court  could  be  found  to  have  given  a  corrupt 
verdict  during  the  forty  years  for  which  their  privilege 
survived.  But  their  purity  did  not  save  them,  nor,  alas! 
those  who  were  to  suffer  by  a  reversion  to  the  old  order. 
The  Equestrian  courts  were  abolished:  the  Senatorial 
courts  were  reinstated.  It  might  be  hoped  that  the  sena- 
tors had  profited  by  their  lesson,  and  for  the  future  would 
be  careful  of  their  reputation. 

Changes  were  made  also  in  the  modes  of  election  to 
office.  The  College  of  Priests  had  been  originally  a  close 
corporation,  which  filled  up  its  own  numbers.  Democ- 
racy had  thrown  it  open  to  competition,  and  given  the 
choice  to  the  people.  Sylla  reverted  to  the  old  rule. 
Consuls  Hke  Marius  and  Cinna,  who  had  the  confidence  of 
the  people,  had  been  re-elected  year  after  year,  and  had 
been  virtual  kings.  Sylla  provided  that  ten  years  must 
elapse  between  a  first  consulship  and  a  second.  Nor  was 
anyone  to  be  a  consul  who  was  not  forty-three  years  old, 
and  had  not  passed  already  through  the  lower  senatorial 
offices  of  prsetor  or  quaestor. 

The  assembly  of  the  people  had  been  shorn  of  its  legis- 
lative powers.  There  was  no  longer,  therefore,  any  excuse 
for  its  meeting,  save  on  special  occasions.  To  leave  the 
tribunes  power  to  call  the  citizens  to  the  Forum  was  to 


72  JULIUS   CiESAR  [b.  c.  84-78 

leave  them  the  means  of  creating  inconvenient  agitation. 
It  was  ordered,  therefore,  that  the  assembly  should  only 
come  together  at  the  Senate's  invitation.  The  free  grants 
of  corn,  which  filled  the  city  with  idle  vagrants,  were  abol- 
ished. Sylla  never  courted  popularity  and  never  shrank 
from  fear  of  clamour. 

The  Senate  was  thus  made  omnipotent  and  irrespon- 
sible. It  had  the  appointment  of  all  the  governors  of  the 
provinces.  It  was  surrounded  by  its  own  body-guard. 
It  had  the  administration  completely  in  hand.  The  mem- 
bers could  be  tried  only  by  their  peers,  and  were  them- 
selves judges  of  every  other  order.  No  legal  force  was  left 
anywhere  to  interfere  with  what  it  might  please  them  to 
command.  A  senator  was  not  necessarily  a  patrician,  nor 
a  patrician  a  senator.  The  Senate  was,*^  or  was  to  be  as 
time  wore  on,  a  body  composed  of  men  of  any  order  who 
had  secured  the  suffrages  of  the  people.  But,  as  the  value 
of  the  prize  became  so  vast,  the  way  to  the  possession  of  it 
was  open  practically  to  those  only  who  had  wealth  or  inter- 
est. The  elections  came  to  be  worked  by  organized  com- 
mittees; and,  except  in  extraordinary  circumstances,  no 
candidate  could  expect  success  who  had  not  the  Senate's 
support,  or  who  had  not  bought  the  services  of  the  man- 
agers, at  a  cost  within  the  reach  .only  of  the  reckless  spend- 
thrift or  the  speculating  millionaire. 

What  human  foresight  could  do  to  prevent  democracy 
from  regaining  the  ascendency,  Sylla  had  thus  accom- 
plished. He  had  destroyed  the  opposition;  he  had  re- 
organized the  constitution  on  the  most  strictly  conservative 
lines.  He  had  built  the  fortress,  as  he  said;  it  was  now  the 
Senate's  part  to  provide  a  garrison;  and  here  it  was,  as 
Caesar  said  afterward,  that  Sylla  had  made  his  great  mis- 
take. His  arrangements  were  ingenious,  and  many  of 
them  excellent;  but  the  narrower  the  body  to  whose  care 
the  government  was  intrusted,  the  more  important  became 
the  question  of  the  composition  of  this  body.  The  theory 
of  election  implied  that  they  would  be  the  best  that  the 
Republic  possessed;  but  Sylla  must  have  been   himself 


B.  c.  84-78]  SERTORIUS  IN    SPAIN  73 

conscious  that  fact  and  theory  might  be  very  far  from 
corresponding. 

The  key  of  the  situation  was  the  army.  As  before,  no 
troops  were  to  be  maintained  in  Italy;  but  beyond  the 
frontiers,  the  provinces  were  held  by  military  force,  and  the 
only  power  which  could  rule  the  Empire  was  the  power 
which  the  army  would  obey.  It  was  not  for  the  Senate's 
sake  that  Sylla's  troops  had  followed  him  from  Greece. 
It  was  from  their  personal  devotion  to  himself.  What 
charm  was  there  in  this  new  constructed  aristocratic  oli- 
garchy, that  distant  legions  should  defer  to  it — more  than 
Sylla's  legions  had  deferred  to  orders  from  Cinna  and 
Carbo?  Symptoms  of  the  danger  from  this  quarter  were 
already  growing  even  under  the  Dictator's  own  eyes,  and 
at  the  height  of  his  authority.  Sertorius  had  escaped  the 
proscription.  After  wandering  in  Africa,  he  made  his  way 
into  Spain;  where,  by  his  genius  as  a  statesman  and  a 
soldier,  he  rose  into  a  position  to  defy  the  Senate  and 
assert  his  independence.  He  organized  the  Peninsula 
after  the  Roman  model;  he  raised  armies,  and  defeated 
commander  after  commander  who  was  sent  to  reduce  him. 
He  revived  in  the  Spaniards  a  national  enthusiasm  for 
freedom.  The  Roman  legionaries  had  their  own  opinions, 
and  those  whose  friends  Sylla  had  murdered  preferred 
Sertorius  and  liberty  to  Rome  and  an  aristocratic  Senate. 
Unconquerable  by  honourable  means,  Sertorius  was  pois- 
oned at  last.  But  his  singular  history  suggests  a  doubt 
whether,  if  the  Syllan  constitution  had  survived,  other 
Sertoriuses  might  not  have  sprung  up  in  every  province, 
and  the  Empire  of  Rome  have  gone  to  pieces  like  the 
Macedonian.  The  one  condition  of  the  continuance  of 
the  Roman  dominion  was  the  existence  of  a  central 
authority  which  the  army  as  a  profession  could  respect; 
and  the  traditionary  reverence  which  attached  to  the  Ro- 
man Senate  would  scarcely  have  secured  their  disinter- 
ested attachment  to  five  hundred  elderly  rich  men  who  had 
bought  their  way  into  pre-eminence. 

Sylla  did  not  live  to  see  the  significance  of  the  Sertorian 


74  JULIUS   CiESAR  [B.  c.  84-78 

revolt.  He  experienced,  however,  himself,  in  a  milder 
form,  an  explosion  of  military  sauciness.  Young  Pompey 
had  been  sent,  after  the  occupation  of  Rome,  to  settle 
Sicily  and  Africa.  He  did  his  work  well  and  rapidly,  and 
when  it  was  over  he  received  orders  from  the  Senate  to  dis- 
miss his  troops.  An  order  from  Sylla,  Pompey  would 
have  obeyed;  but  what  was  the  Senate,  that  an  ambitious 
brilliant  youth  with  arms  in  his  hands  should  send  away 
an  army  devoted  to  him  and  step  back  into  common  life? 
Sylla  himself  had  to  smooth  the  ruffled  plumes  of  his  aspir- 
ing follower.  He  Hked  Pompey;  he  was  under  obliga- 
tions to  him,  and  Pompey  had  not  acted  after  all  in  a  man- 
ner so  very  unlike  his  own.  He  summoned  him  home; 
but  he  gave  him  a  triumph  for  his  African  conquests,  and 
allowed  him  to  call  himself  by  the  title  of  "  Magnus  "  or 
*'  The  Great."  Pompey  was  a  promising  soldier,  without 
political  ambition,  and  was  worth  an  effort  to  secure.  To 
prevent  the  risk  ;of  a  second  act  of  insubordination, 
Sylla  made  personal  arrangements  to  attach  Pom- 
.pey  directly  to  himself.  He  had  a  stepdaughter, 
named  Emilia.  She  was  already  married,  and  was 
pregnant.  Pompey  too  was  married  to  Antistia,  a 
lady  of  good  family;  but  domestic  ties  were  not  al- 
lowed to  stand  in  the  way  of  higher  objects.  Nor  did 
it  matter  that  Antistia's  father  had  been  murdered  by  the 
Roman  populace  for  taking  Sylla's  side,  or  that  her  mother 
had  gone  mad  and  destroyed  herself,  on  her  husband's 
horrible  death.  Late  Republican  Rome  was  not  troubled 
with  sentiment.  Sylla  invited  Pompey  to  divorce  An- 
tistia and  marry  Emilia.  Pompey  complied.  Antistia 
was  sent  away.  Emilia  was  divorced  from  her  husband, 
and  was  brought  into  Pompey's  house,  where  she  imme- 
diately died. 

In  another  young  man  of  high  rank,  whom  Sylla  at- 
tempted to  attach  to  himself  by  similar  means,  he  found 
less  complaisance.  Caesar  was  now  eighteen:  his  daughter 
Julia  having  been  lately  born.  He  had  seen  his  party 
ruined,  his  father-in-law  and  young  Marius  killed,  and  his 


B.  c.  84-78]  CiESAR  AND   SYLLA  75 

nearest  friends  dispersed  or  murdered.  He  had  himself  / 
for  a  time  escaped  proscription;  but  the  Dictator  had  his- 
eye  on  him,  and  Sylla  had  seen  something  in  "  the  youth^' 
with  the  loose  girdle  "  which  struck  him  as  remarkable* 
Closely  connected  though  Caesar  was  both  with  Cinna  and 
Marius,  Sylla  did  not  wish  to  kill  him,  if  he  could  help  it. 
There  was  a  cool  calculation  in  his  cruelties.  The  exist- 
ing generation  of  democrats  was  incurable,  but  he  knew 
that  the  stability  of  the  new  constitution  must  depend  on 
his  being  able  to  conciliate  the  intellect  and  energy  of  the 
next.  Making  a  favour  perhaps  of  his  clemency,  he 
proposed  to  Caesar  to  break  with  his  liberal  associ- 
ates, divorce  Cinna's  daughter,  and  take  such  a  wife 
as  he  would  himself  provide.  If  Pompey  had  com- 
plied, who  had  made  a  position  of  his  own,  much 
more  might  it  be  expected  that  Caesar  would  com- 
ply. Yet  Caesar  answered  with  a  distinct  and  un- 
hesitating refusal.  The  terrible  Sylla,  in  the  fulness  of 
his  strength,  after  desolating  half  the  homes  in  Italy,  after 
revolutionizing  all  Roman  society,  from  the  peasant's  cot-  , 
tage  in  the  Apennines  to  the  senate  house  itself,  was  defied 
by  a  mere  boy !  Throughout  his  career  Caesar  displayed, 
always  a  singular  indifference  to  life.  He  had  no  senti- 
mental passion  about  him;  no  Byronic  mock  heroics.  He 
had  not  much  belief  either  in  God  or  the  gods.  On  all 
such  questions  he  observed  from  first  to  last  a  profound 
silence.  But  one  conviction  he  had.  He  intended  if  he 
was  to  live  at  all,  to  live  master  of  himself  in  matters  which 
belonged  to  himself.  Sylla  might  kill  him  if  he  so  pleased. 
It  was  better  to  die  than  to  put  away  a  wife  who  was  th^ 
mother  of  his  child,  and  to  marry  some  other  woman  at  a 
Dictator's  bidding.  Life  on  such  terms  was  not  worth 
keeping. 

So  proud  a  bearing  may  have  commanded  Sylla's  ad-  / 
miration,  but  it  taught  him,  also,  that  a  young  man  capa- 
ble of  assuming  an  attitude  so  bold,  might  be  dangerous 
to  the  rickety  institutions  which  he  had  constructed  so 
carefully.     He  tried  coercion.     He  deprived  Caesar  of  his  / 


^6  JULIUS   CiESAR  [B.  c.  84-78 

priesthood.  He  took  his  wife's  dowry  from  him,  and  con- 
fiscated the  estate  which  he  had  inherited  from  his  father. 
When  this  produced  no  effect,  the  rebeUious  youth  was 
made  over  to  the  assassins,  and  a  price  was  set  upon  his 
head.  He  fled  into  concealment.  He  was  discovered  once, 
and  escaped  only  by  bribing  Sylla's  satellites.  His  fate 
would  soon  have  overtaken  him,  but  he  had  powerful  rela- 
tions, whom  Sylla  did  not  care  to  offend.  Aurelius  Cotta, 
who  was  perhaps  his  mother's  brother,  Mamercus  ^milius, 
a  distinguished  patrician,  and  singularly  also  the  College 
of  the  Vestal  Virgins,  interceded  for  his  pardon.  The 
Dictator  consented  at  last,  but  with  prophetic  reluctance. 
"  Take  him,"  he  said  at  length,  ''  since  you  will  have  it  so 
— but  I  would  have  you  know  that  the  youth  for  whom  you 
are  so  earnest  will  one  day  overthrow  the  aristocracy,  for 
whom  you  and  I  have  fought  so  hardly;  in  this  young 
Caesar  there  are  many  Mariuses."  ^  Caesar,  not  trusting 
too  much  to  Sylla's  forbearance,  at  once  left  Italy,  and 
joined  the  army  in  Asia.  The  little  party  of  young  men 
who  had  grown  up  together  now  separated,  to  meet  in  the 
future  on  altered  terms.  Caesar  held  to  his  inherited  con- 
victions, remaining  constant  through  good  and  evil  to  the 
cause  of  his  uncle  Marius.  His  companion  Cicero,  now 
ripening  into  manhood,  chose  the  other  side.  With  his 
talents  for  his  inheritance,  and  confident  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  power,  but  with  weak  health  and  a  neck  as  thin  as 
a  woman's,  Cicero  felt  that  he  had  a  future  before  him,  but 
that  his  successes  must  be  won  by  other  weapons  than 
arms.  He  chose  the  bar  for  his  profession;  he  resolved  to, 
make  his  way  into  popularity  as  a  pleader  before  the  Sen- 
ate courts  and  in  the  Forum.  He  looked  to  the  Senate 
itself  as  the  ultimate  object  of  his  ambition.  There  alone 
he  could  hope  to  be  distinguished,  if  distinguished  he  was 
to  be. 

Cicero,  however,  was  no  more  inclined  than  Caesar  to  b/e 
subservient  to  Sylla,  as  he  took  an  early  opportunity  hi 
showing.  It  was  to  the  cause  of  the  constitution,  and  not 
to  the  person  of  the  Dictator,  that  Cicero  had  attached 


B.  c.  84-78]  RETIREMENT   OF  SYLLA  77 

himself,  and  he,  too,  ventured  to  give  free  expression  to  his 
thoughts  when  free  speech  was  still  dangerous. 

Sylla's  career  was  drawing  to  its  close,  and  the  end  was 
not  the  least  remarkable  feature  of  it.  On  him  had  fallen 
the  odium  of  the  proscription  and  the  stain  of  the  massa- 
cres. The  sooner  the  senators  could  be  detached  from  the 
soldier  who  had  saved  them  from  destruction,  the  better 
chance  they  would  have  of  conciliating  quiet  people  on 
whose  support  they  must  eventually  rely.  Sylla  himself 
felt  the  position;  and  having  completed  what  he  had  under- 
taken, with  a  half-pitying,  half-contemptuous  self-aban- 
donment, he  executed  what  from  the  first  he  had  intended ; 
he  resigned  the  Dictatorship,  and  became  a  private  citizen 
again,  amusing  the  leisure  of  his  age,  as  he  had  abused  the 
leisure  of  his  youth,  with  theatres,  and  actresses,  and  din- 
ner-parties. He  too,  like  so  many  of  the  great  Romans, 
was  indifferent  to  life;  of  power  for  the  sake  of  power  he 
was  entirely  careless;  and  if  his  retirement  had  been  more 
dangerous  to  him  than  it  really  was,  he  probably  would 
not  have  postponed  it.  He  was  a  person  of  singular  char- 
acter, and  not  without  many  qualities  which  were  really  ad- 
mirable. He  was  free  from  any  touch  of  charlatanry.  He 
was  true,  simple,  and  unaffected,  and  even  without  ambi- 
tion in  the  mean  and  personal  sense.  His  fault,  which  he 
would  have  denied  to  be  a  fault,  was  that  he  had  a  patrician 
disdain  of  mobs  and  suffrages  and  the  cant  of  popular 
liberty.  The  type  repeats  itself  era  after  era.  Sylla  was 
but  Graham  of  Claverhouse  in  a  Roman  dress  and  with 
an  ampler  stage.  His  courage  in  laying  down  his  au- 
thority has  been  often  commented  on,  but  the  risk  which 
he  incurred  was  insignificant.  There  was  in  Rome  neither 
soldier  nor  statesman  who  could  for  a  moment  be  placed 
in  competition  with  Sylla,  and  he  was  so  passionately  loved 
by  the  army,  he  was  so  sure  of  the  support  of  his  comrades, 
whom  he  had  quartered  on  the  proscribed  lands,  and  who, 
for  their  own  interest's  sake,  would  resist  attempts  at 
counter-revolution,  that  he  knew  that  if  an  emergency 
arose  he  had  but  to  lift  his  finger  to  reinstate  himself  in 


yS  JULIUS   CESAR  [b.  c.  84-78 

command.  Of  assassination  he  was  in  no  greater  danger 
than  when  Dictator,  while  the  temptation  to  assassinate 
him  was  less.  His  influence  was  practically  undiminished, 
and  as  long  as  he  lived,  he  remained,  and  could  not  but 
remain,  the  first  person  in  the  Republic. 

Some  license  of  speech  he  was,  of  course,  prepared  for, 
but  it  required  no  small  courage  to  make  a  pubHc  attack 
either  on  himself  or  his  dependents,  and  it  was,  therefore, 
most  creditable  to  Cicero  that  his  first  speech  of  impor- 
tance was  directed  against  the  Dictator's  immediate 
friends,  and  was  an  exposure  of  the  iniquities  of  the  pro- 
scription. Cicero,  no  doubt,  knew  that  there  would  be  no 
surer  road  to  favour  with  the  Roman  multitude  than  by  de- 
nouncing Sylla's  followers,  and  that,  young  and  unknown 
as  he  was,  his  insignificance  might  protect  him,  however 
far  he  ventured.  But  he  had  taken  the  Senate's  side. 
From  first  to  last  he  had  approved  of  the  reactionary  con- 
stitution, and  had  only  condemned  the  ruthless  methods 
by  which  it  had  been  estabHshed.  He  never  sought  the 
popularity  of  a  demagogue,  or  appealed  to  popular  pas- 
sions, or  attempted  to  create  a  prejudice  against  the  aris- 
tocracy, into  whose  ranks  he  intended  to  make  his  way. 
He  expressed  the  opinions  of  the  respectable  middle 
classes,  who  had  no  sympathy  with  revolutionists,  but  who 
dreaded  soldiers  and  military  rule  and  confiscations  of 
property. 

The  occasion  on  which  Cicero  came  forward  was  char- 
acteristic of  the  time.  Sextus  Roscius  was  a  country  gen- 
tleman of  good  position,  residing  near  Ameria,  in  Umbria. 
He  had  been  assassinated  when  on  a  visit  to  Rome  by  two 
of  his  relations,  who  wished  to  get  possession  of  his  estate. 
The  proscription  was  over  and  the  list  had  been  closed; 
but  Roscius's  name  was  surreptitiously  entered  upon  it, 
with  the  help  of  Sylla's  favourite  freedman,  Chrysogonus. 
The  assassins  obtained  an  acknowledgment  of  their  claims, 
and  they  and  Chrysogonus  divided  the  spoils.  Sextus 
Roscius  was  entirely  innocent.  He  had  taken  no  part  in 
politics  at  all.     He  had  left  a  son,  who  was  his  natural 


B.  c.  84-78]  DEATH   OF  SYLLA  79 

heir,  and  the  township  of  Ameria  sent  up  a  petition  to 
Sylla  remonstrating  against  so  iniquitous  a  robbery.  The 
conspirators,  finding  themselves  in  danger  of  losing  the  re- 
ward of  their  crime,  shifted  their  ground.  They  denied 
that  they  had  themselves  killed  Sextus  Roscius.  They 
said  that  the  son  had  done  it,  and  they  charged  him  with 
parricide.  Witnesses  were  easily  provided.  No  influential 
pleader,  it  was  justly  supposed,  would  venture  into  an- 
tagonism with  Sylla's  favourite,  and  appear  for  the  defence. 
Cicero  heard  of  the  case,  however,  and  used  the  oppor- 
tunity to  bring  himself  into  notice.  He  advocated  young 
Roscius's  cause  with  skill  and  courage.  He  told  the  whole 
story  in  court  without  disguise.  He  did  not  blame  Sylla. 
He  compared  Sylla  to  Jupiter  Optimus  Maximus,  who 
was  sovereign  of  the  Universe,  and  on  the  whole  a  good 
sovereign,  but  with  so  much  business  on  his  hands  that  he 
had  not  time  to  look  into  details.  But  Cicero  denounced 
Chrysogonus  as  an  accomplice  in  an  act  of  atrocious  vil- 
lainy. The  court  took  the  same  view,  and  the  rising  ora- 
tor had  the  honour  of  clearing  the  reputation  of  the  in- 
jured youth,  and  of  recovering  his  property  for  him. 

Sylla  showed  no  resentment,  and  probably  felt  none. 
He  lived  for  a  year  after  his  retirement,  and  died  78  B.  C, 
being  occupied  at  the  moment  in  writing  his  memoirs, 
which  have  been  unfortunately  lost.  He  was  buried  gor- 
geously in  the  Campus  Martins,  among  the  old  kings  of 
Rome.  The  aristocrats  breathed  freely  when  delivered 
from  his  overpowering  presence,  and  the  constitution 
which  he  had  set  upon  its  feet  was  now  to  be  tried. 

Notes 

*  Page  62.  "  Nigris  vegetisque  oculis." — Suetonius. 

'  Page  63.  "Ac  primum  illud  tempus  familiaritatis  et  consuetudinis, 
quae  mihi  cum  illo,  quae  fratri  meo,  quae  Caio  Varroni,  consobrino  nos- 
tro,  ab  omnium  nostrum  adolescentia  fuit,  praetermitto." — Cicero,  De 
Provinciis  Consularibus,  17.  Cicero  was  certainly  speaking  of  a  time 
which  preceded  Sylla's  dictatorship,  for  Caesar  left  Rome  immediately 
after  it,  and  when  he  came  back  he  attached  himself  to  the  political 
party  to  which  Cicero  was  most  opposed. 


8o  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  84-78 

*  Page  66.  On  the  Adriatic,  between  Ancona  and  Pescara. 

*  Page  66.  See,  for  the  story  of  Oppianicus,  the  remarkable  speech  of 
Cicero,  Pro  Cleuntio. 

*  Page  71.  Appian,  on  the  other  hand,  says  that  the  Courts  of  the 
Equites  had  been  more  corrupt  than  the  Senatorial  courts. — De  Bello 
Civili,  i.  22.  Cicero  was,  perhaps,  prejudiced  in  favour  of  his  own 
order  ;  but  a  contemporary  statement  thus  publicly  made  is  far  more 
likely  to  be  trustworthy. 

*  Page  72.  Sylla  had  himself  nominated  a  large  number  of  senators. 

■'  Page  76.  So  says  Suetonius,  reporting  the  traditions  of  the  following 
century,  but  the  authority  is  doubtful  ;  and  the  story,  like  so  many 
others,  is  perhaps  apocryphal. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE  able  man  of  the  democracy  had  fallen  in  the  pro- 
scription. Sertorius,  the  only  eminent  surviving 
soldier  belonging  to  them,  was  away,  making  him- 
self independent  in  Spain.  The  rest  were  all  killed.  But  the 
Senate,  too,  had  lost  in  Sylla  the  single  statesman  that  they 
possessed.  They  were  a  body  of  mediocrities,  left  with  ab- 
solute power  in  their  hands,  secure  as  they  supposed  from 
further  interference,  and  able  to  return  to  those  pleasant 
occupations  which  for  a  time  had  been  so  rudely  inter- 
rupted. Sertorius  was  an  awkward  problem  with  which 
Pompey  might  perhaps  be  intrusted  to  deal.  No  one  knew 
as  yet  what  stuff  might  be  in  Pompey.  He  was  for  the 
present  sunning  himself  in  his  military  splendours;  too 
young  to  come  forward  as  a  politician,  and  destitute,  so 
far  as  appeared,  of  political  ambition.  If  Pompey  prom- 
ised to  be  docile,  he  might  be  turned  to  use  at  a  proper 
time;  but  the  aristocracy  had  seen  too  much  of  successful 
military  commanders,  and  were  in  no  hurry  to  give  op- 
portunities of  distinction  to  a  youth  who  had  so  saucily  de- 
fied them.  Sertorius  was  far  ofl,  and  could  be  dealt  with 
at  leisure. 

In  his  defence  of  Roscius,  Cicero  had  given  an  admon- 
ition to  the  noble  lords  that,  unless  they  mended  their 
ways,  they^  could  not  look  for  any  long  continuance. 
They  regarded  Cicero  perhaps,  if  they  heard  what  he  said 
of  them,  as  an  inexperienced  young  man,  who  would  under- 
stand better  by  and  by  of  what  materials  the  world  was 
made.  There  had  been  excitement  and  anxiety  enough. 
Conservatism  was  in  power  again.  Fine  gentlemen  could 
once  more  lounge  in  their  clubs,  amuse  themselves  with 
their  fish-ponds  and  horses  and  mistresses,  devise  new  and 
6  8i 


S2  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  78-70 

ever  new  means  of  getting  money  and  spending  it,  and 
leave  the  Roman  Empire  for  the  present  to  govern  itself. 

The  leading  public  men  belonging  to  the  party  in  power 
had  all  served  in  some  capacity  or  other  with  Sylla  or  un- 
der him.  Of  those  whose  names  deserve  particular  men- 
tion there  were  at  most  five. 

Licinius  Lucullus  had  been  a  special  favourite  of  Sylla. 
The  Dictator  left  him  his  executor,  with  the  charge  of  his 
manuscripts.  Lucullus  was  a  commoner,  but  of  consular 
family,  and  a  thorough-bred  aristocrat.  He  had  endeared 
himself  to  Sylla  by  a  languid  talent  which  could  rouse  itself 
when  necessary  into  brilliant  activity,  by  the  easy  culture 
of  a  polished  man  of  rank,  and  by  a  genius  for  luxury, 
which  his  admirers  followed  at  a  distance,  imitating  their 
master  but  hopeless  of  overtaking  him. 

Caecilius  Metellus,  son  of  the  Metellus  whom  Marius  had 
superseded  in  Africa,  had  been  consul  with  Sylla  in  80 
B.  C.  He  was  now  serving  in  Spain  against  Sertorius, 
and  was  being  gradually  driven  out  of  the  Peninsula. 

Lutatius  Catulus  was  a  proud  but  honest  patrician,  with 
the  conceit  of  his  order,but  without  their  vices.  His  father, 
who  had  been  Marius's  colleague,  and  had  been  defeated 
by  the  Cimbri,  had  killed  himself  during  the  Marian  revo- 
lution. The  son  had  escaped,  and  was  one  of  the  consuls 
at  the  time  of  Sylla's  death. 

More  noticeable  than  either  of  these  was  Marcus  Cras- 
sus,  a  figure  singularly  representative,  of  plebeian  family, 
but  a  family  long  adopted  into  the  closest  circle  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, the  leader  and  impersonation  of  the  great  mon- 
eyed classes  in  Rome.  Wealth  had  for  several  genera- 
tions been  the  characteristic  of  the  Crassi.  They  had  the 
instinct  and  the  temperament  which  in  civilized  ages  take 
to  money-making  as  a  natural  occupation.  In  politics 
they  aimed  at  being  on  the  successful  side;  but  living,  as 
they  did,  in  an  era  of  revolutions,  they  were  surprised  oc- 
casionally in  unpleasant  situations.  Crassus  the  Rich, 
father  of  Marcus,  had  committed  himself  against  Marius, 
and  had  been  allowed  the  privilege  of  being  his  own  exe- 


B.  c.  78-70]  CRASSUS  AND  LEPIDUS  83 

cutioner.  Marcus  himself,  who  was  a  little  older  than 
Cicero,  took  refuge  in  Sylla's  camp.  He  made  himself 
useful  to  the  Dictator  by  his  genius  for  finance,  and  in  re- 
turn he  was  enabled  to  amass  an  enormous  fortune  for 
himself  out  of  the  proscriptions.  His  eye  for  business 
reached  over  the  whole  Roman  Empire.  He  was  banker, 
speculator,  contractor,  merchant.  He  lent  money  to  the 
spendthrift  young  lords,  but  with  sound  securities  and  at 
usurious  interest.  He  had  an  army  of  slaves — ^but  these 
slaves  were  not  ignorant  field  hands;  they  were  skilled 
workmen  in  all  arts  and  trades,  whose  labours  he  turned  to 
profit  in  building  streets  and  palaces.  Thus  all  that  he 
touched  turned  to  gold. .  He  was  the  wealthiest  single 
individual  in  the  whole  Empire,  the  acknowledged  head 
of  the  business  world  of  Rome. 

The  last  person  who  need  be  noted  was  Marcus  ^Emilius 
Lepidus,  the  father  of  the  future  colleague  of  Augustus 
and  Antony.  Lepidus,  too,  had  been  an  officer  of  Sylla's. 
He  had  been  rewarded  for  his  services  by  the  government 
of  Sicily,  and  when  Sylla  died  was  the  second  consul  with 
Catulus.  It  was  said  against  him  that,  like  so  many  other 
governors,  he  had  enriched  himself  by  tyrannizing  over  his 
Sicilian  subjects.  His  extortions  had  been  notorious;  he 
was  threatened  with  prosecution  as  soon  as  his  consulship 
should  expire;  and  the  adventure  to  which  he  was  about 
to  commit  himself  was  undertaken,  so  the  aristocrats  after- 
wards maintained,  in  despair  of  an  acquittal.  Lepidus's 
side  of  the  story  was  never  told,  but  another  side  it  cer- 
tainly had.  Though  one  of  Sylla's  generals,  he  had  mar- 
ried the  daughter  of  the  tribune  Saturninus.  He  had  been 
elected  consul  by  a  very  large  majority  against  the  wishes 
of  the  Senate,  and  was  suspected  of  holding  popular  opin- 
ions. It  may  be  that  the  prosecution  was  an  afterthought 
of  revenge,  and  that  Lepidus  was  to  have  been  tried  before 
a  senatorial  jury  already  determined  to  find  him  guilty. 

Among  these  men  lay  the  fortunes  of  Rome,  when  the 
departure  of  their  chief  left  the  aristocrats  masters  of  their 
own  destiny. 


84  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  78-70 

During  this  time  Caesar  had  been  serving  his  apprentice- 
ship as  a  soldier.  The  motley  forces  which  Mithridates 
had  commanded  had  not  all  submitted  on  the  king's  sur- 
render to  Sylla.  Squadrons  of  pirates  hung  yet  about  the 
smaller  islands  in  the  ^gean.  Lesbos  was  occupied  by 
adventurers,  who  were  fighting  for  their  own  hand,  and 
the  praetor  Minucius  Thermus  had  been  sent  to  clear  the 
seas  and  extirpate  these  nests  of  brigands.  To  Thermus 
Caesar  had  attached  himself.  The  praetor,  finding  that  his 
fleet  was  not  strong  enough  for  the  work,  found  it  neces- 
sary to  apply  to  Nicomedes,  the  allied  sovereign  of  the  ad- 
joining kingdom  of  Bithynia,  to  supply  him  with  a  few 
additional  vessels;  and  Caesar,  soon  after  his  arrival,  was 
despatched  on  this  commission  to  the  Bithynian  court. 

Long  afterwards,  when  Roman  cultivated  society  had 
come  to  hate  Caesar,  and  any  scandal  was  welcome  to  them 
which  would  make  hirn  odious,  it  was  reported  that  on  this 
occasion  he  entered  into  certain  relations  with  Nicomedes 
of  a  kind  indisputably  common  at  the  time  in  the  highest 
patrician  circles.  The  value  of  such  a  charge  in  political 
controversy  was  considerable,  for  whether  true  or  false  it 
was  certain  to  be  believed;  and  similar  accusations  were 
flung  indiscriminately,  so  Cicero  says,  at  the  reputation  of 
every  eminent  person  whom  it  was  desirable  to  stain,  if  his 
personal  appearance  gave  the  story  any  air  of  probability.^ 

The  disposition  to  believe  evil  of  men  who  have  risen  a 
few  degrees  above  their  contemporaries  is  a  feature  of 
human  nature  as  common  as  it  is  base;  and  when  to  envy 
there  are  added  fear  and  hatred,  malicious  anecdotes  spring 
like  mushrooms  in  a  forcing-pit.  But  gossip  is  not  evi- 
dence, nor  does  it  become  evidence  because  it  is  in  Latin 
and  has  been  repeated  through  many  generations.  The 
strength  of  the  chain  is  no  greater  than  the  strength  of  its 
first  link,  and  the  adhesive  character  of  calumny  proves 
only  that  the  inclination  of  average  men  to  believe  the 
worst  of  great  men  is  the  same  in  all  ages.  This  particular 
accusation  against  Caesar  gains,  perhaps,  a  certain  credi- 
bility from  the  admission  that  it  was  the  only  occasion  on 


B.  c.  78-70]  CiESAR  RETURNS  TO  ROME  85 

which  anything  of  the  kind  could  be  alleged  against  him. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  was  unheard  of  for  near  a  quarter  of 
a  century.  It  was  produced  in  Rome  in  the  midst  of  a 
furious  poHtical  contest.  No  witnesses  were  forthcoming, 
no  one  who  had  been  in  Bithynia  at  the  time,  no  one  who 
ever  pretended  to  have  original  knowledge  of  the  truth  of 
the  story.  Csesar  himself  passed  it  by  with  disdain,  or 
alluded  to  it,  if  forced  upon  his  notice,  with  contemptuous 
disgust. 

The  Bithynian  mission  was  otherwise  successful.  He 
brought  the  ships  to  Thermus.  He  distinguished  himself 
personally  in  the  storming  of  Mitylene,  and  won  the  oak 
wreath,  the  Victoria  Cross  of  the  Roman  army.  Still  pur- 
suing the  same  career,  Caesar  next  accompanied  Servilius 
Isauricus  in  a  campaign  against  the  horde  of  pirates,  after- 
wards so  famous,  that  was  forming  itself  among  the  creeks 
and  river  mouths  of  Cilicia.  The  advantages  which  Ser- 
vilius obtained  over  them  were  considerable  enough  to  de- 
serve a  triumph,  but  were  barren  of  result.  The  news  that 
Sylla  was  dead  reached  the  army  while  still  in  the  field; 
and  the  danger  of  appearing  in  Rome  being  over,  Caesar 
at  once  left  Cilicia  and  went  back  to  his  family.  Other 
causes  are  said  to  have  contributed  to  hasten  his  return. 
A  plot  had  been  formed,  with  the  consul  Lepidus  at  its 
head,  to  undo  Sylla's  laws  and  restore  the  constitution  of 
the  Gracchi.  Caesar  had  been  urged  by  letter  to  take  part 
in  the  movement;  and  he  may  have  hurried  home,  either 
to  examine  the  prospects  of  success,  or  perhaps  to  prevent 
an  attempt,  which,  under  the  circumstances,  he  might 
think  criminal  and  useless.  Lepidus  was  not  a  wise  man, 
though  he  may  have  been  an  honest  one.  The  aristocracy 
had  not  yet  proved  that  they  were  incapable  of  reform. 
It  might  be  that  they  would  digest  their  lesson  after  all, 
and  that  for  a  generation  to  come  no  more  revolutions 
would  be  necessary. 

Caesar  at  all  events  declined  to  connect  himself  with  this 
new  adventure.  He  came  to  Rome,  looked  at  what  was 
going  on,  and  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  it.    The 


86  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  78-70 

experiment  was  tried  without  him.  Young  Cinna,  his 
brother-in-law,  joined  Lepidus.  Together  they  raised  a 
force  in  Etruria,  and  marched  on  Rome.  They  made  their 
way  into  the  city,  but  were  met  in  the  Campus  Martius  by 
Pompey  and  the  other  consul,  Catulus,  at  the  head  of 
some  of  Sylla's  old  troops;  and  an  abortive  enterprise, 
which,  if  it  had  succeeded,  would  probably  have  been  mis- 
chievous, was  ended  almost  as  soon  as  it  began.  The  two 
leaders  escaped.  Cinna  joined  Sertorius  in  Spain.  Lepi- 
dus made  his  way  to  Sardinia,  where,  in  the  next  year,  he 
died,  leaving  a  son  to  play  the  game  of  democracy  under 
more  brilliant  auspices. 

Caesar  meanwhile  felt  his  way,  as  Cicero  was  doing  in 
the  law  courts,  attacking  the  practical  abuses,  which  the 
Roman  administration  was  generating  everywhere.  Cor- 
nelius Dolabella  had  been  placed  by  Sylla  in  command  of 
Macedonia.  His  father  had  been  a  friend  of  Satuminus, 
and  had  fallen  at  his  side.  The  son  had  gone  over  to  the 
aristocracy,  and  for  this  reason  was  perhaps  an  object  of 
aversion  to  the  younger  liberals.  The  Macedonians  pur- 
sued him,  when  his  government  had  expired,  with  a  list  of 
grievances  of  the  usual  kind.  Young  Caesar  took  up  their 
cause,  and  prosecuted  him.  Dolabella  was  a  favourite  of 
the  Senate;  he  had  been  allowed  a  triumph  for  his  services, 
and  the  aristocracy  adopted  his  cause  as  their  own.  The 
unpractised  orator  was  opposed  at  the  trial  by  his  kins- 
man, Aurelius  Cotta,  and  the  most  celebrated  pleaders  in 
Rome.  To,  have  crossed  swords  with  such  opponents  was 
a  dangerous  honour  for  him — success  against  them  was  not 
to  be  expected,  and  Caesar  was  not  yet  master  of  his  art. 
Dolabella  was  acquitted.  Party  feeling  had  perhaps  en- 
tered into  the  accusation.  Caesar  found  it  prudent  to 
retire  again  ffom  the  scene.  There  were  but  two  roads 
to  eminence  in  Rome,  oratory  and  service  in  the  army. 
He  had  no  prospect  of  public  employment  from  the  pres- 
ent administration,  and  the  platform  alone  was  open  to 
him.  Plain  words  with  a  plain  meaning  in  them  no  longer 
carried  weight  with  a  people  who  expected  an  orator  to 


B.  c.  78-70]  CiESAR  AND  THE  PIRATES  8/ 

delight  as  well  as  instruct  them.  The  use  of  the  tongue 
had  become  a  special  branch  of  a  statesman's  education; 
and  Csesar,  feeling  his  deficiency,  used  his  leisure  to  put 
himself  in  training,  and  go  to  school  at  Rhodes,  with  the 
then  celebrated  Apollonius  Molo.  He  had  recovered  his 
property  and  his  priesthood,  and  was  evidently  in  no  want 
of  money.  He  travelled  with  the  retinue  of  a  man  of  rank, 
and  on  his  way  to  Rhodes  he  fell  in  with  an  adventure 
which  may  be  something  more  than  legend.  When  he  was 
crossing  the  ^gean,  his  vessel  is  said  to  have  been  taken 
by  pirates.  They  carried  him  to  Pharmacusa,^  an  island 
off  the  Carian  coast,  which  was  then  in  their  possession; 
and  there  he  was  detained  for  six  weeks  with  three  of  his 
attendants,  while  the  rest  of  his  servants  were  sent  to  the 
nearest  Roman  station  to  raise  his  ransom.  The  pirates 
treated  him  with  politeness.  He  joined  in  their  sports, 
played  games  with  them,  looked  into  their  habits,  and 
amused  himself  with  them  as  well  as  he  could,  frankly  tell- 
ing them  at  the  same  time  that  they  would  all  be  hanged. 

The  ransom,  a  very  large  one,  about  io,oool,  was 
brought  and  paid.  Caesar  was  set  upon  the  mainland 
near  Miletus,  where,  without  a  moment's  delay,  he  col- 
lected some  armed  vessels,  returned  to  the  island,  seized 
the  whole  crew  while  they  were  dividing  their  plunder, 
and  took  them  away  to  Pergamus,  the  seat  of  government 
in  the  Asiatic  province,  where  they  were  convicted  and 
crucified.  Clemency  was  not  a  Roman  characteristic.  It 
was  therefore  noted,  with  some  surprise,  that  Caesar  inter- 
ceded to  mitigate  the  severity  of  the  punishment.  The 
poor  wretches  were  strangled  before  they  were  stretched 
on  their  crosses,  and  were  spared  the  prolongation  of  their 
torture.  The  pirate  business  being  disposed  of,  he  re- 
sumed his  journey  to  Rhodes,  and  there  he  continued  for 
two  years  practising  gesture  and  expression  under  the 
tuition  of  the  great  master. 

During  this  time  the  government  of  Rome  was  making 
progress  in  again  demonstrating  its  unfitness  for  the  duties 
which  were  laid  upon  it,  and  sowing  the  seeds  which  in 


88  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  78-70 

a  few  years  were  to  ripen  into  a  harvest  so  remarkable. 
Two  alternatives  only  lay  before  the  Roman  dominion — 
either  disruption  or  the  abolition  of  the  constitution.  If 
the  aristocracy  could  not  govern,  still  less  could  the  mob 
govern.  The  Latin  race  was  scattered  over  the  basin  of 
the  Mediterranean,  no  longer  bound  by  any  special  ties  to 
Rome  or  Italy,  each  man  of  it  individually  vigorous  and 
energetic,  and  bent  before  all  things  on  making  his  own 
fortune.  If  no  tolerable  administration  was  provided  from 
home,  their  obvious  course  could  only  be  to  identify  them- 
selves with  local  interests  and  nationalities,  and  make  them- 
selves severally  independent,  as  Sertorius  was  doing  in 
Spain.  Sertorius  was  at  last  disposed  of,  but  by  methods 
promising  ill  for  the  future.  He  beat  Metellus  till  Metel- 
lus  could  do  no  more  against  him.  The  all-victorious 
Pompey  was  sent  at  last  to  win  victories  and  gain  nothing 
by  them.  Six  campaigns  led  to  no  result,  and  the  diffi- 
culty was  only  removed  at  last  by  treachery  and  assassina- 
tion. 

A  more  extraordinary  and  more  disgraceful  phenome- 
non was  the  growth  of  piracy,  with  the  skirts  of  which 
Caesar  had  come  in  contact  at  Pharmacusa.  The  Romans 
had  become  masters  of  the  world  only  that  the  sea  from 
one  end  of  their  dominions  to  the  other  should  be  patrolled 
by  organized  rovers.  For  many  years,  as  Roman  com- 
merce extended,  the  Mediterranean  had  become  a  profit- 
able field  of  enterprise  for  these  gentry.  From  every 
country  which  they  had  overrun  or  occupied  the  conquests 
of  the  Romans  had  let  loose  swarms  of  restless  patriots 
who,  if  they  could  not  save  the  liberties  of  their  own  coun- 
tries, could  prey  upon  the  oppressor.  Illyrians  from  the 
Adriatic,  Greeks  from  the  islands  and  the  Asiatic  ports, 
Syrians,  Egyptians,  Africans,  Spaniards,  Gauls,  and  dis- 
affected Italians,  trained  many  of  them  to  the  sea  from 
their  childhood,  took  to  the  water  in  their  light  galleys 
with  all  the  world  before  them.  Under  most  circumstances 
society  is  protected  against  thieves  by  their  inability  to 
combine.     But  the  pirates  of  the  Mediterranean  had  learnt 


B.  c.  78-70]  GROWTH   OF  PIRACY  89 

from  the  Romans  the  advantage  of  union,  and  had  drifted 
into  a  vast  confederation.  CiHcia  was  their  headquarters. 
ServiHus  had  checked  them  for  a  time;  but  the  Roman 
Senate  was  too  eager  for  a  revenue,  and  the  Roman  gov- 
ernors and  farmers  of  the  taxes  were  too  bent  upon  filHng 
their  private  purses,  to  allow  fleets  to  be  maintained  in  the 
provincial  harbours  adequate  to  keep  the  peace.  When 
Servilius  retired,  the  pirates  reoccupied  their  old  haunts. 
The  Cilician  forests  furnished  them  with  ship  timber.  The 
mountain  gorges  provided  inaccessible  storehouses  for 
plunder.  Crete  was  completely  in  their  hands  also;  and 
they  had  secret  friends  along  the  entire  Mediterranean 
shores.  They  grew  at  last  into  a  thousand  sail,  divided 
into  squadrons,  under  separate  commanders.  They  were 
admirably  armed.  They  rowed  over  the  waters  at  their 
pleasure,  attacking  islands  or  commercial  ports,  plunder- 
ing temples  and  warehouses,  arresting  every  trading  vessel 
they  encountered,  till  at  last  no  Roman  could  go  abroad 
on  business,  save  during  the  winter  storms,  when  the  sea 
was  comparatively  clear.  They  flaunted  their  sails  in 
front  of  Ostia  itself;  they  landed  in  their  boats  at  the  villas 
on  the  Italian  coast,  carrying  off  lords  and  ladies,  and  hold- 
ing them  to  ransom.  They  levied  black-mail  at  their  pleas- 
ure. The  wretched  provincials  had  paid  their  taxes  to 
Rome  in  exchange  for  promised  defence,  and  no  defence 
was  provided.*  The  revenue  which  ought  to  have  been 
spent  on  the  protection  of  the  Empire,  a  few  patricians 
were  dividing  among  themselves.  The  pirates  had  even 
marts  in  different  islands,  where  their  prisoners  were  sold 
to  the  slave-dealers;  and  for  fifteen  years  nothing  was  done 
or  even  attempted  to  put  an  end  to  so  preposterous  an 
enormity.  The  ease  with  which  these  buccaneers  of  the 
Old  World  were  eventually  suppressed  proved  conclusively 
that  they  existed  by  connivance.  It  was  discovered  at  last 
that  large  sums  had  been  sent  regularly  from  Crete  to  some 
of  the  most  distinguished  members  of  the  aristocracy. 
The  Senate  was  again  the  same  body  which  it  was  found 
by  Jugurtha,  and  the  present  generation  were  happier 


go  JULIUS   CESAR  [b.  c.  78-70 

than  their  fathers  in  that  larger  and  richer  fields  were  now 
open  to  their  operation. 

While  the  pirates  were  at  work  on  the  extremities,  the 
senators  in  the  provinces  were  working  systematically, 
squeezing  the  people  as  one  might  squeeze  a  sponge  of  all 
the  wealth  that  could  be  drained  out  of  them.  After  the 
failure  of  Lepidus,  the  elections  in  Rome  were  wholly  in 
the  Senate's  hands.  Such  independence  as  had  not  been 
crushed  was  corrupted.  The  aristocracy  divided  the  con- 
sulships, prsetorships,  and  quaestorships  among  them- 
selves, and  after  the  year  of  office  the  provincial  prizes 
were  then  distributed.  Of  the  nature  of  their  govern- 
ment a  picture  has  been  left  by  Cicero,  himself  one  of  the 
senatorial  party,  and  certainly  not  to  be  suspected  of  hav- 
ing represented  it  as  worse  than  it  was  in  the  famous  prose- 
cution of  Verres.  There  is  nothing  to  show  that  Verres 
was  worse  than  the  rest  of  his  order.  Piso,  Gabinius,  and 
many  others  equalled,  or  perhaps  excelled,  him  in  villainy. 
But  historical  fate  required  a  victim,  and  the  unfortunate 
wretch  has  been  selected  out  of  the  crowd  individually  to 
illustrate  his  class. 

By  family  he  was  connected  with  Sylla.  His  father  was 
noted  as  an  election  manager  at  the  Comitia.  The  son 
had  been  attached  to  Carbo  when  the  democrats  were  in 
power,  but  he  had  deserted  them  on  Sylla's  return.  He 
had  made  himself  useful  in  the  proscriptions,  and  had 
scraped  together  a  considerable  fortune.  He  was  em- 
ployed afterwards  in  Greece  and  Asia,  where  he  distin- 
guished himself  by  fresh  rapacity,  and  by  the  gross  bru- 
tality with  which  he  abused  an  innocent  lady.  With  the 
wealth  which  he  had  extorted  or  stolen  he  bought  his 
way  into  the  prsetorship,  probably  with  his  father's  help; 
he  then  became  a  senator,  and  was  sent  to  govern  Sicily — 
a  place  which  had  already  suffered,  so  the  Senate  said,  from 
the  malpractices  of  Lepidus,  and  needing,  therefore,  to  be 
generously  dealt  with. 

Verres  held  his  province  for  three  years.  He  was  su- 
preme judge  in  all  civil  and  criminal  cases.     He  negotiated 


B.  c.  78-70]  VERRES  91 

with  the  parties  to  every  suit  which  was  brought  before 
him,  and  then  sold  his  decisions.  He  confiscated  estates 
on  fictitious  accusations.  The  island  was  rich  in  works  of 
art.  Verres  had  a  taste  for  such  things,  and  seized  with- 
out scruple  the  finest  productions  of  Praxiteles  or  Zeuxis. 
If  those  who  were  wronged  dared  to  complain,  they  were 
sent  to  forced  labour  at  the  quarries,  or,  as  dead  men  tell 
no  tales,  were  put  out  of  the  world.  He  had  an  under- 
standing with  the  pirates,  which  throws  light  upon  the 
secret  of  their  impunity.  A  shipful  of  them  were  brought 
into  Messina  as  prisoners,  and  were  sentenced  to  be  exe- 
cuted. A  handsome  bribe  was  paid  to  Verres,  and  a  num- 
ber of  Sicilians  whom  he  wished  out  of  the  way  were 
brought  out,  veiled  and  gagged,  that  they  might  not  be 
recognised,  and  were  hanged  as  the  pirates'  substitutes. 
By  these  methods  Verres  was  accused  of  having  gathered 
out  of  Sicily  three-quarters  of  a  million  of  our  money. 
Two-thirds  he  calculated  on  having  to  spend  in  corrupting 
the  consuls,  and  the  court  before  which  he  might  be  prose- 
cuted. The  rest  he  would  be  able  to  save,  and  with  the 
help  of  it  to  follow  his  career  of  greatness  through  the 
highest  offices  of  State.  Thus  he  had  gone  on  upon  his 
way,  secure,  as  he  supposed,  of  impunity.  One  of  the  con- 
suls for  the  year  and  the  consuls  for  the  year  which  was  to 
come  next  were  pledged  to  support  him.  The  judges 
would  be  exclusively  senators,  each  of  whom  might  re- 
quire assistance  in  a  similar  situation.  The  chance  of  jus- 
tice on  these  occasions  was  so  desperate  that  the  provin- 
cials preferred  usually  to  bear  their  wrongs  in  silence 
rather  than  expose  themselves  to  expense  and  danger  for 
almost  certain  failure.  But,  as  Cicero  said,  the  whole 
world  inside  the  ocean  was  ringing  with  the  infamy  of  the 
Roman  senatorial  tribunals. 

Cicero,  whose  honest  wish  was  to  save  the  Senate  from 
itself,  determined  to  make  use  of  Verres'  conduct  to  shame 
the  courts  into  honesty.  Every  difficulty  was  thrown  in 
his  way.  He  went  in  person  to  Sicily  to  procure  evidence. 
He  was  browbeaten  and  threatened  with  violence.     The 


92  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  78-70 

witnesses  were  intimidated,  and  in  some  instances  were 
murdered.  The  technical  ingenuities  of  Roman  law  were 
exhausted  to  shield  the  culprit.  The  accident  that  the  sec- 
ond consul  had  a  conscience  alone  enabled  Cicero  to  force 
the  criminal  to  the  bar.  But  the  picture  which  Cicero 
drew  and  laid  before  the  people,  proved  as  it  was  to  every 
detail,  and  admitting  of  no  answer  save  that  other  gov- 
ernors had  been  equally  iniquitous  and  had  escaped  unpun- 
ished, created  a  storm  which  the  Senate  dared  not  encoun- 
ter. Verres  dropped  his  defence,  and  fled,  and  part  of  his 
spoils  was  recovered.  There  was  no  shame  in  the  aristoc- 
racy to  prevent  them  from  committing  crimes:  there  was 
enough  to  make  them  abandon  a  comrade  who  was  so  un- 
fortunate as  to  be  detected  and  brought  to  justice. 

This  was  the  state  of  the  Roman  dominion  under  the 
constitution  as  reformed  by  Sylla:  the  Spanish  Peninsula 
recovered  by  murder  to  temporary  submission;  the  sea 
abandoned  to  buccaneers;  decent  industrious  people  in  the 
provinces  given  over  to  have  their  fortunes  stolen  from 
them,  their  daughters  dishonoured,  and  themselves  beaten 
or  killed  if  they  complained,  by  a  set  of  wolves  calling 
themselves  Roman  senators — and  these  scenes  not  local- 
ized to  any  one  unhappy  district,  but  extending  through 
the  entire  civilized  part  of  mankind.  There  was  no  hope 
for  these  unhappy  people,  for  they  were  under  the  tyranny 
of  a  dead  hand.  A  bad  king  is  like  a  bad  season.  The 
next  may  bring  improvement,  or,  if  his  rule  is  wholly  in- 
tolerable, he  can  be  deposed.  Under  a  bad  constitution 
no  such  change  is  possible.  It  can  be  ended  only  by  a 
revolution.  Republican  Rome  had  become  an  Imperial 
State — she  had  taken  upon  herself  the  guardianship  of 
every  country  in  the  world  where  the  human  race  was  in- 
dustrious and  prosperous,  and  she  was  discharging  her 
great  trust  by  sacrificing  them  to  the  luxury  and  ambition 
of  a  few  hundred  scandalous  politicians. 

The  nature  of  man  is  so  constructed  that  a  constitution 
so  administered  must  collapse.  It  generates  faction 
within,  it  invites  enemies  from  without.     While  Sertorius 


B.  c.  78-70]  MITHRIDATES  AGAIN  93 

was  defying  the  Senate  in  Spain,  and  the  pirates  were  buy- 
ing its  connivance  in  the  Mediterranean,  Mithridates 
started  into  Hfe  again  in  Pontus.  Sylla  had  beaten  him 
into  submission;  but  Sylla  was  gone,  and  no  one  was  left 
to  take  Sylla's  place.  The  watchful  barbarian  had  his 
correspondents  in  Rome,  and  knew  everything  that  was 
passing  there.  He  saw  that  he  had  little  to  fear  by  trying 
the  issue  with  the  Romans  once  more.  He  made  him- 
self master  of  Armenia.  In  the  corsair  fleet  he  had  an  ally 
ready  made.  The  Roman  province  in  Asia  Minor,  driven 
to  despair  by  the  villainy  of  its  governors,  was  ripe  for 
revolt.  Mithridates  rose,  and  but  for  the  young  Caesar 
would  a  second  time  have  driven  the  Romans  out  of  Asia. 
Caesar,  in  the  midst  of  his  rhetorical  studies  at  Rhodes, 
heard  the  mutterings  of  the  coming  storm.  Deserting 
Apollonius's  lecture  room,  he  crossed  over  to  the  conti- 
nent, raised  a  corps  of  volunteers,  and  held  Caria  to  its  alle- 
giance; but  Mithridates  possessed  himself  easily  of  the  in- 
terior kingdoms,  and  of  the  whole  valley  of  the  Euphrates 
to  the  Persian  Gulf.  The  Black  Sea  was  again  covered 
with  his  ships.  He  defeated  Cotta  in  a  naval  battle,  drove 
him  through  the  Bosphorus,  and  destroyed  the  Roman 
squadron.  The  Senate  exerted  itself  at  last.  Lucullus, 
Sylla's  friend,  the  only  moderately  able  man  that  the  aris- 
tocracy had  among  them,  was  sent  to  encounter  him. 
Lucullus  had  been  trained  in  a  good  school,  and  the  superi- 
ority of  the  drilled  Roman  legions  when  tolerably  led  again 
easily  asserted  itself.  Mithridates  was  forced  back  into  the 
Armenian  hills.  The  Black  Sea  was  swept  clear,  and  eight 
thousand  of  the  buccaneers  were  killed  at  Sinope.  Lucul- 
lus pursued  the  retreating  prince  across  the  Euphrates, 
•won  victories,  took  cities  and  pillaged  them.  He  reached 
Lake  Van,  he  marched  round  Mount  Ararat,  and  advanced 
to  Artaxata.  But  Asia  was  a  scene  of  dangerous  tempta- 
tion for  a  Roman  commander.  Cicero,  though  he  did  not 
name  Lucullus,  was  transparently  alluding  to  him  when  he 
told  the  assembly  in  the  Forum  that  Rome  had  made  her- 
self abhorred  throughout  the  world  by  the  violence  and 


94  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  78-70 

avarice  of  her  generals.  No  temple  had  been  so  sacred, 
no  city  so  venerable,  no  houses  so  well  protected,  as  to  be 
secure  from  their  voracity.  Occasions  of  war  had  been 
caught  at  with  rich  communities,  where  plunder  was  the 
only  object.  The  proconsuls  could  win  battles,  but  they 
could  not  keep  their  hands  from  off  the  treasures  of  their 
allies  and  subjects.^ 

LucuUus  was  splendid  in  his  rapacity,  and  amidst  his  vic- 
tories he  had  amassed  the  largest  fortune  which  had  yet 
belonged  to  patrician  or  commoner,  except  Crassus. 
Nothing  came  amiss  to  him.  He  had  sold  the  commissions 
in  his  army.  He  had  taken  money  out  of  the  treasury  for 
the  expenses  of  the  campaign.  Part  he  had  spent  in  brib- 
ing the  administration  to  prolong  his  command  beyond 
the  usual  time;  the  rest  he  had  left  in  the  city  to  accumu- 
late for  himself  at  interest.®  He  lived  on  the  plunder  of 
friend  and  foe;  and  the  defeat  of  Mithridates  was  never 
more  than  a  second  object  to  him.  The  one  steady  pur- 
pose in  which  he  never  varied  was  to  pile  up  gold  and 
jewels. 

An  army  so  organized  and  so  employed  soon  loses  effi- 
ciency and  coherence.  The  legions,  perhaps  considering 
that  they  were  not  allowed  a  fair  share  of  the  spoil,  muti- 
nied. The  disaffection  was  headed  by  young  Publius 
Clodius,  whose  sister  Lucullus  had  married.  The  cam- 
paign which  had  opened  brilliantly  ended  ignominiously. 
The  Romans  had  to  fall  back  behind  Pontus,  closely  pur- 
sued by  Mithridates.  Lucullus  stood  on  the  defensive  till 
he  was  recalled,  and  then  he  returned  to  Rome  to  lounge 
away  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  voluptuous  mag- 
nificence. 

While  Lucullus  was  making  his  fortune  in  the  East,  a* 
spurt  of  insurrectionary  fire  had  broken  out  in  Italy.  The 
Agrarian  laws  and  Sylla's  proscriptions  and  confiscations 
had  restored  the  numbers  of  the  small  proprietors,  but  the 
statesmen  who  had  been  so  eager  for  their  reinstatement 
were  fighting  against  tendencies  too  strong  for  them. 
Life  on  the  farm,  like  life  in  the  city,  was  growing  yearly 


B.  c.  78-70]  THE  GLADIATORS        .  95 

more  extravagant/  The  small  peasants  fell  into  debt. 
Sylla's  soldiers  were  expensive,  and  became  embarrassed. 
Thus  the  small  properties  artificially  re-established  were 
falling  rapidly  again  into  the  market.  The  great  land- 
owners bought  them  up,  and  Italy  was  once  more  lapsing 
to  territorial  magnates  cultivating  their  estates  by  slaves. 

Vast  gangs  of  slave  labourers  were  thus  still  dispersed 
over  the  Peninsula,  while  others  in  large  numbers  were 
purchased  and  trained  for  the  amusement  of  the  metropolis. 
Society  in  Rome,  enervated  as  it  was  by  vicious  pleasures, 
craved  continually  for  new  excitements.  Sensuality  is  a 
near  relation  of  cruelty;  and  the  more  savage  the  enter- 
tainments, the  more  delightful  they  were  to  the  curled  and 
scented  particians  who  had  lost  the  taste  for  fine  enjoy- 
ments. Combats  of  wild  beasts  were  at  first  sufficient 
for  them,  but  to  see  men  kill  each  other  gave  a  keener  de- 
light; and  out  of  the  thousands  of  youths  who  were  sent 
over  annually  by  the  provincial  governors,  or  were  pur- 
chased from  the  pirates  by  the  slave-dealers,  the  most 
promising  were  selected  for  the  arena.  Each  great  noble 
had  his  training  establishment  of  gladiators,  and  was  as 
vain  of  their  prowess  as  of  his  race-horses.  The  schools 
of  Capua  were  the  most  celebrated;  and  nothing  so  rec- 
ommended a  candidate  for  the  consulship  to  the  electors 
as  the  production  of  a  few  pairs  of  Capuan  swordsmen  in 
the  circus. 

These  young  men  had  hitherto  performed  their  duties 
with  more  submissiveness  than  might  have  been  expected, 
and  had  slaughtered  one  another  in  the  most  approved 
methods.  But  the  horse  knows  by  the  hand  on  his  rein 
whether  he  has  a  fool  for  his  rider.  The  gladiators  in  the 
schools  and  the  slaves  on  the  plantations  could  not  be  kept 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  character  of  their  rulers.  They 
were  aware  that  the  seas  were  held  by  their  friends,  the 
pirates,  and  that  their  masters  were  again  being  beaten  out 
of  Asia,  from  which  many  of  themselves  had  been  carried 
ofif.  They  began  to  ask  themselves  why  men  who  could 
use  their  swords  should  be  slaves  when  their  comrades  and 


96  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  78-70 

kindred  were  up  and  fighting  for  freedom.  They  found  a 
leader  in  a  young  Thracian  robber  chief,  named  Spartacus, 
who  was  destined  for  the  amphitheatre,  and  who  preferred 
meeting  his  masters  in  the  field  to  killing  his  friends  to 
make  a  Roman  holiday.  Spartacus,  with  two  hundred  of 
his  companions,  burst  out  from  the  Capuan  "  stable," 
seized  their  arms,  and  made  their  way  into  the  crater  of 
Vesuvius,  which  was  then,  after  the  long  sleep  of  the  vol- 
cano, a  dense  jungle  of  wild  vines.  The  slaves  from  the 
adjoining  plantations  deserted  and  joined  them.  The  fire 
spread,  Spartacus  proclaimed  universal  emancipation,  and 
in  a  few  weeks  was  at  the  head  of  an  army  with  which  he 
overran  Italy  to  the  foot  of  the  Alps,  defeated  consuls  and 
praetors,  captured  the  eagles  of  the  legions,  wasted  the 
farms  of  the  noble  lords,  and  for  two  years  held  his  ground 
against  all  that  Rome  could  do. 

Of  all  the  illustrations  of  the  Senate's  incapacity,  the 
slave  insurrection  was  perhaps  the  worst.  It  was  put 
down  at  last  after  desperate  exertions  by  Crassus  and  Pom- 
pey.  Spartacus  was  killed,  and  six  thousand  of  his  fol- 
lowers were  impaled  at  various  points  on  the  sides  of  the 
highroads,  that  the  slaves  might  have  before  their  eyes 
examples  of  the  effect  of  disobedience.  The  immediate 
peril  was  over;  but  another  symptom  had  appeared  of  the 
social  disease  which  would  soon  end  in  death,  unless  some 
remedy  could  be  found.  The  nation  was  still  strong. 
There  was  power  and  worth  in  the  undegenerate  Italian 
race,  which  needed  only  to  be  organized  and  ruled.  But 
what  remedy  was  possible?  The  practical  choice  of  politi- 
cians lay  between  the  Senate  and  the  democracy.  Both 
were  alike  bloody  and  unscrupulous;  and  the  rule  of  the 
Senate  meant  corruption  and  imbecility,  and  the  rule  of  the 
democracy  meant  anarchy. 

Notes 

*  Page  81.  "  Unum  hoc  dico  :  nostri  isti  nobiles,  nisi  vigilantes  etboni 
et  fortes  et  misericordes  erunt,  iis  hominibus  in  quibus  haec  erunt,  oma- 
menta  sua  concedant  necesse  est." — Pro  Roscio  Amerino,  sec.  48. 


B.  c.  78-70]  THE  GLADIATORS  97 

2  Page  84.  "Sunt  enim  ista  maledicta  pervulgata  in  omnes,  quorum 
in  adolescenti^  forma  et  species  fuit  liberalis." — Oratio  pro  Marco 
Caeiio. 

3  Page  87.  Now  Fermaco. 

*Page  89.  '*  Videbat  enim  populum  Romanum  non  locupletari  quo- 
tannis  pecunia  public^  praeter  paucos  :  neque  eos  quidquam  aliud 
assequi  classiura  nomine,  nisi  ut,  detrimentis  accipiendis  majore  affici 
turpitudine  videremur." — Cicero,  Pro  Lege  ManiM,  23. 

5  Page  94.  "  Difficile  est  dictu,  Quirites,  quanto  in  odio  simus  apud 
exteras  nationes,  propter  eorum,  quos  ad  eas  per  hos  annos  cum  imperio 
misimus,  injurias  ac  libidines.  Quod  enim  fanum  putatis  in  illis  terris 
nostris  magistratibus  religiosum,  quam  civitatem  sanctam,  quam 
domum  satis  clausam  ac  munitam  fuisse  ?  Urbes  jam  locupletes  ac 
copiosae  requiruntur,  quibus  causa  belli  propter  diripiendi  cupiditatem 
inferatur.  .  .  Quare  etiamsi  quem  habetis,  qui  collatis  signis  exercitus 
regios  superare  posse  videatur,  tameu,  nisi  erit  idem,  qui  se  a  pecuniis 
sociorum,  qui  ab  eorum  conjugibus  ac  liberis,  qui  ab  ornamentis  fa- 
norum  atque  oppidorum,  qui  ab  auro  gazaque  regid  raanus,  oculos, 
animum  cohibere  possit,  non  erit  idoneus,  qui  ad  bellum  Asiaticum 
regiumque  mittatur." — Pro  Lege  Manilla,  22,  23. 

•Page  94.  "  Quem  possumus  imperatorem  aliquo  in  numero  putare, 
cujus  in  exercitu  veneant  centuriatus  atque  venierint?  Quid  hunc 
hominem  magnum  aut  amplum  de  republica  cogitare,  qui  pecuniam  ex 
aerario  depromtam  ad  bellum  administrandum,  aut  propter  cupiditatem 
provincise  magistratibus  diviserit  aut  propter  avaritiam  Romae  in 
quaestu  reliquerit?  Vestra  admurmuratio  facit,  Quirites,  ut  agnoscere 
videamini  qui  haec  fecerint :  ego  autem  neminem  nomino."— Pro  Lege 
Manilia,  13. 

'  Page  95.  Varro  mentions  curious  instances  of  the  change  in  country 
manners.  He  makes  an  old  man  say  that  when  he  was  a  boy  a  farm- 
er's wife  used  to  be  content  with  a  jaunt  in  a  cart  once  or  twice  a  year, 
the  farmer  not  taking  out  the  covered  wagon  (the  more  luxurious 
vehicle)  at  all  unless  he  pleased.  The  farmer  used  to  shave  only  once 
a  week,  etc. — M.  Ter.  Varronis  Reliquiae,  ed.  Alexander  Riese,  pp.  139, 
140. 


CHAPTER  X 

C^SAR,  having  done  his  small  piece  of  indepen- 
dent service  in  Caria,  and  having  finished  his 
course  with  Apollonius,  now  came  again  to  Rome, 
and  re-entered  practical  life.  He  lived  with  his  wife  and  his 
mother  Aurelia  in  a  modest  house,  attracting  no  particular 
notice.  But  his  defiance  of  Sylla,  his  prosecution  of  Dola- 
bella,  and  his  known  political  sympathies,  made  him  early 
a  favourite  with  the  people.  The  growing  disorders  at 
home  and  abroad,  with  the  exposures  on  the  trial  of  Verres, 
were  weakening  daily  the  influence  of  the  Senate.  Cassar 
was  elected  military  tribune  as  a  reward  for  his  services  in 
Asia,  and  he  assisted  in  recovering  part  of  the  privileges 
so  dear  to  the  citizens  which  Sylla  had  taken  from  the  trib- 
unes of  the  people.  They  were  again  enabled  to  call  the 
assembly  together,  and  though  they  were  still  unable  to 
propose  laws  without  the  Senate's  sanction,  yet  they  re- 
gained the  privilege  of  consulting  directely  with  the  na- 
tion on  public  affairs.  Caesar  now  spoke  well  enough  to 
command  the  admiration  of  even  Cicero — without  orna- 
ment, but  directly  to  the  purpose.  Among  the  first  uses 
to  which  he  addressed  his  influence  was  to  obtain  the  par- 
don of  his  brother-in-law,  the  younger  Cinna,  who  had 
been  exiled  since  the  failure  of  the  attempt  of  Lepidus. 
In  B.  C.  68,  being  then  thirty-two,  he  gained  his  first  step 
on  the  ladder  of  high  oflice.  He  was  made  quaestor,  which' 
gave  him  a  place  in  the  Senate. 

Soon  after  his  election,  his  aunt  Julia,  the  widow  of 
Marius,  died.  It  was  usual  on  the  death  of  eminent  per- 
sons for  a  near  relation  to  make  an  oration  at  the  funeral. 
Caesar  spoke  on  this  occasion.  It  was  observed  that  he 
dwelt  with  some  pride  on  the  lady's  ancestry,  descending 
on  one  side  from  the  gods,  on  another  from  the  kings  of 

98 


B.  c.  70-63]  CONNECTION   WITH   POMPEY  99 

Rome.  More  noticeably  he  introduced  into  the  burial 
procession  the  insignia  and  images  of  Marius  himself, 
whose  name  for  some  years  had  been  unsafe  to  mention/ 

Pompey,  after  Sertorius's  death,  had  pacified  Spaini 
He  had  assisted  Crassus  in  extinguishing  Spartacus.  The 
Senate  had  employed  him,  but  had  never  liked  him  orj 
trusted  him.  The  Senate,  however,  was  no  longer  omnip-* 
otent,  and  in  the  year  70  he  and  Crassus  had  been  consuls.  1 
Pompey  was  no  politician,  but  he  was  honourable  and' 
straightforward.  Like  every  true  Roman,  he  was  awake' 
to  the  dangers  and  disgrace  of  the  existing  maladminis-i 
tration,  and  he  and  Caesar  began  to  know  each  other,  and 
to  find  their  interest  in  working  together.  Pompey  was) 
the  elder  of  the  two  by  six  years.  He  was  already  a  great! 
man,  covered  with  distinctions,  and  perhaps  he  supposed, 
that  he  was  finding  in  Caesar  a  useful  subordinate.  Caesar 
naturally  liked  Pompey,  as  a  really  distinguished  soldier 
and  an  upright,  disinterested  man.  They  became  con- 
nected by  marriage.  Cornelia  dying,  Caesar  took  for  his 
second  wife  Pompey's  cousin,  Pompeia;  and,  no  doubt  at 
Pompey's  instance,  he  was  sent  into  Spain  to  complete 
Pompey's  work  and  settle  the  finances  of  that  distracted 
country.  His  reputation  as  belonging  to  the  party  of 
Marius  and  Sertorius  secured  him  the  confidence  of  Ser- 
torius's friends.  He  accomplished  his  mission*  completely 
and  easily.  On  his  way  back  he  passed  through  Northern 
Italy,  and  took  occasion  to  say  there  that  he  considered  the 
time  to  have  come  for  the  franchise,  which  now  stopped  at 
the  Po,  to  be  extended  to  the  foot  of  the  Alps. 

The  consulship  of  Pompey  and  Crassus  had  brought 
many  changes  with  it,  all  tending  in  the  same  direct^n.^ 
The  tribunes  were  restored  to  their  old  functions,  the  cen- 
sorship was  re-established,  and  the  Senate  was  at  once 
weeded  of  many  of  its  disreputable  members.  Cicero, 
conservative  as  he  was,  had  looked  upon  these  measures  if 
not  approvingly  yet  without  active  opposition.  To  an- 
other change  he  had  himself  contributed  by  his  speeches 
on  the  Verres  prosecution.     The  exclusive  judicial  powers 


lOO  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  70-63 

which  the  senate  had  abused  so  scandalously  were  again 
taken  from  them.  The  courts  of  the  Equites  were  remem- 
bered in  contrast,  and  a  law  was  passed  that  for  the  future 
the  courts  were  to  be  composed  two-thirds  of  knights  and 
one-third  only  of  senators.  Cicero's  hope  of  resisting 
democracy  lay  in  the  fusion  of  the  great  commoners  with 
the  Senate.  It  was  no  longer  possible  for  the  aristocracy 
to  rule  alone.  Tlie  few  Equites  who,  since  Sylla's  time, 
had  made  their  way  into  the  Senate  had  yielded  to  patri- 
cian ascendency.  Cicero  aimed  at  a  reunion  of  the  orders; 
and  the  consulship  of  Crassus,  little  as  Cicero  liked  Cras- 
sus  personally,  was  a  sign  of  a  growing  tendency  in  this 
direction.  At  all  costs  the  knights  must  be  prevented 
from  identifying  themselves  with  the  democrats,  and  there- 
fore all  possible  compliments  and  all  possible  concessions 
to  their  interests  were  made  to  them. 

They  recovered  their  position  in  the  law  courts  and, 
which  was  of  more  importance  to  them,  the  system  of 
farming  the  taxes,  in  which  so  many  of  them  had  made 
their  fortunes,  and  which  Sylla  had  abolished,  was  once 
again  reverted  to.  It  was  not  a  good  system,  but  it  was 
better  than  a  state  of  things  in  which  little  of  the  revenue 
had  reached  the  pubHc  treasury  at  all,  but  had  been  inter- 
cepted and  parcelled  out  among  the  oligarchy. 

With  recovered  vitality  a  keener  apprehension  began  to 
be  felt  of  the  pirate  scandal.  The  buccaneers,  encouraged 
by  the  Senate's  connivance,  were  more  daring  than  ever. 
They  had  became  a  sea  community,  led  by  high-born  ad- 
venturers, who  maintained  out  of  their  plunder  a  show  of 
wild  magnificence.  The  oars  of  the  galleys  of  their  com- 
manders were  plated  with  silver;  their  cabins  were  hung 
with  gorgeous  tapestry.  They  had  bands  of  music  to  play 
at  their  triumphs.  They  had  a  religion  of  their  own,  an 
oriental  medley  called  the  Mysteries  of  Mithras.  They 
had  captured  and  pillaged  four  hundred  considerable 
towns,  and  had  spoiled  the  temples  of  the  Grecian  gods. 
They  had  maintained  and  extended  their  depots  where 
they  disposed  of  their  prisoners  to  the  slave-dealers.     Ro- 


B.  c.  70-63]  THE  GABINIAN  XAW  1 01 

man  citizens  who  could  not  ransom  themselves  and  could 
not  conveniently  be  sold,  were  informed  that  they 
might  go  where  they  pleased;  they  were  led  to  a 
plank  projecting  over  some  vessel's  side,  and  were 
bidden  depart — into  the  sea.  Not  contented  with  insult- 
ing Ostia  by  their  presence  outside,  they  had  ventured  into 
the  harbour  itself,  and  had  burnt  the  ships  there.  They 
held  complete  possession  of  the  Italian  waters.  Rome, 
depending  on  Sicily,  and  Sardinia,  and  Africa,  for  her  sup- 
plies of  corn,  was  starving  for  want  of  food;  and  the  foreign 
trade  on  which  so  many  of  the  middle  classes  were  engaged 
was  totally  destroyed.  The  return  of  the  commoners  to 
power  was  a  signal  for  an  active  movement  to  put  an  end 
to  the  disgrace.  No  one  questioned  that  it  could  be  done 
if  there  was  a  will  to  do  it.  But  the  work  could  be  accom- 
plished only  by  persons  who  would  be  proof  against  corrup- 
tion. There  was  but  one  man  in  high  position  who  could 
be  trusted,  and  that  was  Pompey.  The  general  to  be 
selected  must  have  unrestricted  and  therefore  unconstitu- 
tional authority.  But  Pompey  was  at  once  capable  and 
honest.  Pompey  could  not  be  bribed  by  the  pirates,  and 
Pompey  could  be  depended  on  not  to  abuse  his  opportu- 
nities to  the  prejudice  of  the  Commonwealth. 

The  natural  course,  therefore,  would  have  been  to 
declare  Pompey  Dictator;  but  Sylla  had  made  the  name 
unpopular;  the  right  to  appoint  a  Dictator  lay  with  the 
Senate,  with  whom  Pompey  had  never  been  a  favourite, 
and  the  aristocracy  had  disliked  and  feared  him  more  than 
ever  since  his  consulship.  From  that  quarter  no  help 
was  to  be  looked  for,  and  a  method  was  devised  to  give  him 
the  reality  of  power  without  the  title.  Unity  of  command 
was  the  one  essential — command  untrammelled  by  orders 
from  committees  of  weak  and  treacherous  noblemen,  who 
cared  only  for  the  interest  of  their  class.  The  established 
forms  were  scrupulously  observed,  and  the  plan  designed 
was  brought  forward  first,  according  to  rule,  in  the  Senate. 
A  tribune,  Aulus  Gabinius,  introduced  a  proposition  there 
that  one  person  of  consular  rank  should  have  absolute 


102  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  70-63 

jurisdiction,  during  three  years,  over  the  whole  Mediter- 
ranean, and  over  all  Roman  territory  for  fifty  miles  inland 
from  the  coast;  that  the  money  in  the  treasury  should  be  at 
his  disposition;  that  he  should  have  power  to  raise  500 
ships  of  war  and  to  collect  and  organize  130,000  men.  No 
such  command  for  such  a  time  had  ever  been  committed 
to  any  one  man  since  the  abolition  of  the  monarchy.  It 
was  equivalent  to  a  suspension  of  the  Senate  itself,  and  of 
all  constitutional  government.  The  proposal  was  received 
with  a  burst  of  fury.  Everyone  knew  that  the  person  in- 
tended was  Pompey.  The  decorum  of  the  old  days  was 
forgotten.  The  noble  lords  started  from  their  seats,  flew 
at  Gabinius,  and  almost  strangled  him:  but  he  had  friends 
outside  the  house  ready  to  defend  their  champion;  the 
country  people  had  flocked  in  for  the  occasion;  the  city  was 
thronged  with  multitudes  such  as  had  not  been  seen 
there  since  the  days  of  the  Gracchi.  The  tribune  freed 
himself  from  the  hands  that  were  at  his  throat;  he  rushed 
out  into  the  Forum,  closely  pursued  by  the  consul  Piso, 
who  would  have  been  torn  to  pieces  in  turn,  had  not  Ga- 
binius interposed  to  save  him.  Senate  or  no  Senate,  it  was 
decided  that  Gabinius's  proposition  should  be  submitted 
to  the  assembly,  and  the  aristocrats  were  driven  to  their 
old  remedy  of  bribing  other  members  of  the  college  of 
tribunes  to  interfere.  Two  renegades  were  thus  secured: 
and  when  the  voting  day  came,  Trebellius,  who  was  one  of 
them,  put  in  a  vote;  the  other,  Roscius,  said  that  the  power 
intended  for  Pompey  was  too  considerable  to  be  trusted 
to  a  single  person,  and  proposed  two  commanders  instead 
of  one.  The  mob  was  packed  so  thick  that  the  house-tops 
were  covered.  A  yell  rose  from  tens  of  thousands  of 
throats  so  piercing  that  it  was  said  a  crow  flying  over  the 
Forum  dropped  dead  at  the  sound  of  it.  The  old  patrician 
Catulus  tried  to  speak,  but  the  people  would  not  hear  him. 
The  vote  passed  by  acclamation,  and  Pompey  was  for  three 
years  sovereign  of  the  Roman  world. 

It  now  appeared  how  strong  the  Romans  were  when  a 
fair  chance  was  allowed  them.     Pompey  had  no  extraor- 


B.  c.  70-63]  SUPPRESSION  OF  THE  PIRATES  I03 

dinary  talents,  but  not  in  three  years,  but  in  three  months, 
the  pirates  were  extinguished.  He  divided  the  Mediter- 
ranean into  thirteen  districts,  and  allotted  a  squadron  to 
each,  under  officers  on  whom  he  could  thoroughly  rely. 
Ships  and  seamen  were  found  in  abundance  lying  idle  from 
the  suspension  of  trade.  In  forty  days  he  had  cleared  the 
seas  between  Gibraltar  and  Italy.  He  had  captured  entire 
corsair  fleets,  and  had  sent  the  rest  flying  into  the  Cilician 
creeks.  There,  in  defence  of  their  plunder  and  their 
families,  they  fought  one  desperate  engagement,  and  when 
defeated,  they  surrendered  without  a  further  blow.  Of 
real  strength  they  had  possessed  none  from  the  first. 
They  had  subsisted  only  through  the  guilty  complicity  of 
the  Roman  authorities,  and  they  fell  at  the  first  stroke 
which  was  aimed  at  them  in  earnest.  Thirteen  hundred 
pirate  ships  were  burnt.  Their  docks  and  arsenals  were 
destroyed,  and  their  fortresses  were  razed.  Twenty-two 
thousand  prisoners  fell  into  the  hands  of  Pompey.  To 
the  astonishment  of  mankind,  Pompey  neither  impaled 
them,  as  the  Senate  had  impaled  the  followers  of  Spartacus, 
nor  even  sold  them  for  slaves.  He  was  contented  to  scat- 
ter them  among  inland  colonies,  where  they  could  no 
longer  be  dangerous. 

The  suppression  of  the  buccaneers  was  really  a  brilliant 
piece  of  work,  and  the  ease  with  which  it  was  accomplished 
brought  fresh  disgrace  on  the  Senate  and  fresh  glory  on 
the  hero  of  the  hour.  Cicero,  with  his  thoughts  fixed  on 
saving  the  constitution,  considered  that  Pompey  might 
be  the  man  to  save  it;  or,  at  all  events,  that  it  would  be 
unsafe  to  leave  him  to  the  democrats  who  had  given  him 
power  and  were  triumphing  in  his  success.  On  political 
grounds  Cicero  thought  that  Pompey  ought  to  be  recog- 
nised by  the  moderate  party  which  he  intended  to  form; 
and  a  person  like  himself,  who  hoped  to  rise  by  the  popular 
votes,  could  not  otherwise  afford  to  seem  cold  amidst  the 
universal  enthusiasm.  The  pirates  were  abolished.  Mith- 
ridates  was  still  undisposed  of.  Lucullus,  the  hope  of  the 
aristocracy,  was  lying  helpless  within  the  Roman  frontier, 


104  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  70-63 

with  a  disorganized  and  mutinous  army.  His  victories 
were  forgotten.  He  was  regarded  as  the  impersonation 
of  every  fauh  which  had  made  the  rule  of  the  Senate  so 
hateful.  Pompey,  the  people's  general,  after  a  splendid 
success,  had  come  home  with  clean  hands;  Lucullus  had 
sacrificed  his  country  to  his  avarice.  The  contrast  set  off 
his  failures  in  colours  perhaps  darker  than  really  belonged 
to  them,  and  the  cry  naturally  rose  that  Lucullus  must  be 
called  back,  and  the  all-victorious  Pompey  must  be  sent 
for  the  reconquest  of  Asia.  Another  tribune,  Manilius, 
brought  the  question  forward,  this  time  directly  before  the 
assembly,  the  Senate's  consent  not  being  any  more  asked 
for.  Caesar  again  brought  his  influence  to  bear  on  Pom- 
pey's  side;  but  Caesar  found  support  in  a  quarter  where  it 
might  not  have  been  looked  for.  The  Senate  was  furious 
as  before,  but  by  far  the  most  gifted  person  in  the  conserv- 
ative party  now  openly  turned  against  them.  Cicero 
was  praetor  this  year,  and  was  thus  himself  a  senator.  A 
seat  in  the  Senate  had  been  the  supreme  object  of  his  am- 
bition. He  was  vain  of  the  honour  which  he  had  won,  and 
delighted  with  the  high  company  into  which  he  had  been 
received;  but  he  was  too  shrewd  to  go  along  with  them 
upon  a  road  which  could  lead  only  to  their  overthrow; 
and  for  their  own  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  institution 
itself  of  which  he  meant  to  be  an  illustrious  ornament,  he 
not  only  supported  the  Manilian  proposition,  but  sup- 
ported it  in  a  speech  more  effective  than  the  wildest  out- 
pourings of  democratic  rhetoric. 

Asia  Minor,  he  said,  was  of  all  the  Roman  provinces 
the  most  important,  because  it  was  the  most  wealthy.^  So 
rich  it  was  and  fertile  that,  for  the  productiveness  of  its  soil, 
the  variety  of  its  fruits,  the  extent  of  its  pastures,  and  the 
multitude  of  its  exports,  there  was  no  country  in  the  world 
to  be  compared  with  it;  yet  Asia  was  in  danger  of  being 
utterly  lost  through  the  worthlessness  of  the  governors  and 
military  commanders  charged  with  the  care  of  it.  *'  Who 
does  not  know,"  Cicero  asked,  ''  that  the  avarice  of  our 
generals  has  been  the  cause  of  the  misfortunes  of  our 


B.  c.  70-63]  THE   MANILIAN  LAW  I05 

armies?  You  can  see  for  yourselves  how  they  act  here  at 
home  in  Italy;  and  what  will  they  not  venture  far  away  in 
distant  countries?  Officers  who  cannot  restrain  their 
own  appetites  can  never  maintain  discipline  in  their 
troops.  Pompey  has  been  victorious  because  he  does  not 
loiter  about  the  towns  for  plunder  or  pleasure,  or  making 
collections  of  statues  and  pictures.  Asia  is  a  land  of  temp- 
tations. Send  no  one  thither  who  cannot  resist  gold  and 
jewels  and  shrines  and  pretty  women.  Pompey  is  upright 
and  pure-sighted.  Pompey  knows  that  the  State  has  been 
impoverished  because  the  revenue  flows  into  the  coffers  of 
a  few  individuals.  Our  fleets  and  armies  have  availed  only 
to  bring  the  more  disgrace  upon  us  through  our  defeats 
and  losses."  ^ 

After  passing  a  deserved  panegyric  on  the  suppression 
of  the  pirates,  Cicero  urged  with  all  the  power  of  his  ora- 
tory that  Manilius's  measures  should  be  adopted,  and  that 
the  same  general  who  had  done  so  well  already  should  be  . 
sent  against  Mithridates. 

This  was  perhaps  the  only  occasion  on  which  Cicero 
ever  addressed  the  assembly  in  favour  of  the  proposals  of  a 
popular  tribune.  Well  would  it  have  been  for  him  and 
well  for  Rome  if  he  could  have  held  on  upon  a  course  into 
which  he  had  been  led  by  real  patriotism.  He  was  now  in 
his  proper  place,  where  his  better  mind  must  have  told  him 
that  he  ought  to  have  continued,  working  by  the  side  of 
Caesar  and  Pompey.  It  was  observed  that  more  than  once 
in  his  speech  he  mentioned  with  high  honour  the  name  of 
Marius.  He  appeared  to  have  seen  clearly  that  the  Senate 
was  bringing  the  state  to  perdition;  and  that  unless  the 
Republic  was  to  end  in  dissolution,  or  in  mob  rule  and  des- 
potism, the  wise  course  was  to  recognise  the  legitimate 
tendencies  of  popular  sentiment,  and  to  lend  the  constant 
weight  of  his  authority  to  those  who  were  acting  in  har- 
mony with  it.  But  Cicero  could  never  wholly  forget  his 
own  consequence,  or  bring  himself  to  persist  in  any  policy 
where  he  could  play  but  a  secondary  part. 

The    Manilian   law   was   carried.     In   addition   to   his   * 


106  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  70-63 

present  extraordinary  command,  Pompey  was  intrusted 
with  the  conduct  of  the  war  in  Asia,  and  he  was  left  un- 
fettered to  act  at  his  own  discretion.  He  crossed  the  Bos- 
phorus  with  fifty  thousand  men;  he  invaded  Pontus;  he 
inflicted  a  decisive  defeat  on  Mithridates,  and  broke  up  his 
army;  he  drove  the  Armenians  back  into  their  own 
mountains,  and  extorted  out  of  them  a  heavy  war  indem- 
nity. The  barbarian  king  who  had  so  long  defied  the 
Roman  power  was  beaten  down  at  last,  and  fled  across  the 
Black  Sea  to  Kertch,  where  his  sons  turned  against  him. 
He  was  si^.ty-eight  years  old,  and  could  not  wait  till  the 
wheel  should  make  another  turn.  Broken  down  at 
last,  he  took  leave  of  a  world  in  which  for  him  there  was  no 
longer  a  place.  His  women  poisoned  themselves  success- 
fully. He,  too  fortified  by  antidotes  to  end  as  they  ended, 
sought  a  surer  death,  and  fell  like  Saul  by  the  sword  of  a 
slave.  Rome  had  put  out  her  real  strength,  and  at  once, 
as  before,  all  opposition  went  down  before  her.  Asia  was 
completely  conquered,  up  to  the  line  of  the  Euphrates. 
The  Black  Sea  was  held  securely  by  a  Roman  fleet.  Pom- 
pey passed  down  into  Syria.  Antioch  surrendered  with- 
out resistance.  Tyre  and  Damascus  followed.  Jerusalem 
was  taken  by  storm,  and  the  Roman  general  entered  the 
Holy  of  Holies.  Of  all  the  countries  bordering  on  the 
Mediterranean,  Egypt  only  was  left  independent,  and  of 
all  the  islands  only  Cyprus.  A  triumphal  inscription  in 
Rome  declared  that  Pompey,  the  people's  general,  had  in 
three  years  captured  fifteen  hundred  cities,  and  had  slain, 
taken,  or  reduced  to  submission,  twelve  million  human 
beings.  He  justified  what  Cicero  had  foretold  of  his  moral 
uprightness.  In  the  midst  of  opportunities  such  as  had 
fallen  to  no  commander  since  Alexander,  he  outraged  no 
woman's  honour,  and  he  kept  his  hands  clean  from  "  the 
accursed  thing."  When  he  returned  to  Rome,  he  re- 
turned, as  he  went,  personally  poor,  but  he  filled  the 
treasury  to  overflowing.  His  campaign  was  not  a  maraud- 
ing raid,  like  the  march  of  LucuUus  on  Artaxata.  His 
conquests   were   permanent.      The  East,  which  was  then 


B.  c.  70-63]  POMPEY  IN   ASIA  10/ 

thickly  inhabited  by  an  industrious  civiHzed  Graeco-Orien- 
tal  race,  became  incorporated  in  the  Roman  dominion,  and 
the  annual  revenue  of  the  State  rose  to  twice  what  it  had 
been.  Pompey's  success  had  been  dazzlingly  rapid. 
Envy  and  hatred,  as  he  well  knew,  were  waiting  for  him 
at  home;  and  he  was  in  no  haste  to  present  himself  there. 
He  lingered  in  Asia,  organizing  the  administration,  and 
consohdating  his  work;  while  at  Rome  the  constitution 
was  rushing  on  upon  its  old  courses  among  the  broken 
waters,  with  the  roar  of  the  not  distant  cataract  growing 
every  moment  louder.  ^ 

Notes 

*  Page  99.  The  name  of  Marius,  it  is  to  be  observed,  remained  so 
popular  in  Rome  that  Cicero  after  this  always  spoke  of  him  with 
respect. 

^  Page  104.  "  Asia  vero  tam  opima  est  et  fertilis,  ut  et  ubertate  agro- 
rum  et  varietate  fructuum  et  magnitudine  pastionis,  et  multitudine 
earum  rerum,  quae  exportentur,  facile  omnibus  terris  antecellat." — Pro 
Lege  Manilia.  Cicero's  expressions  are  worth  notice  at  a  time  when 
Asia  Minor  has  become  of  importance  to  England, 

3  Page  105.    Pro  Lege  Manili^,  abridged. 


CHAPTER  XI 

AMONG  the  patricians  who  were  rising  through  the 
lower  magistracies  and  were  aspiring  to  the  consul- 
^  ship  was  Lucius  Sergius  Catiline.  Catiline,  now  in 
middle  life,  had  when  young  been  a  fervent  admirer  of 
Sylla,  and,  as  has  been  already  said,  had  been  an  active 
agent  in  the  proscription.  He  had  murdered  his  brother- 
in-law,  and  perhaps  his  brother,  under  political  pretences. 
In  an  age  when  Hcentiousness  of  the  grossest  kind  was  too 
common  to  attract  attention,  Catiline  had  achieved  a  noto- 
riety for  infamy.  He  had  intrigued  with  a  Vestal  virgin, 
the  sister  of  Cicero's  wife,  Terentia.  If  Cicero  is  to  be 
believed,  he  had  made  away  with  his  own  wife,  that  he 
might  marry  Aurelia  Orestilla,  a  woman  as  wicked  as  she 
was  beautiful,  and  he  had  killed  his  child  also  because 
Aurelia  had  objected  to  be  encumbered  with  a  step-son. 
But  this,  too,  was  common  in  high  society  in  those  days. 
Adultery  and  incest  had  become  familiar  excitements. 
Boys  of  ten  years  old  had  learnt  the  art  of  poisoning  their 
fathers,^  and  the  story  of  Aurelia  Orestilla  and  CatiUne  had 
been  rehearsed  a  few  years  before  by  Sassia  and  Oppian- 
icus  at  Larino.^  Other  enormities  Catiline  had  been  guilty 
of,  which  Cicero  declined  to  mention,  lest  he  should  show 
too  openly  what  crimes  might  go  unpunished  under  the 
senatorial  administration.  But  villainy,  however  noto- 
rious, did  not  interfere  with  advancement  in  the  public 
service.  Catiline  was  adroit,  bold,  and  even  captivating. 
He  made  his  way  into  high  ofBce  along  the  usual  grada- 
tions. He  was  praetor  in  B.  C.  68.  He  went  as  governor 
to  Africa  in  the  year  following,  and  he  returned  with 
money  enough,  as  he  reasonably  hoped,  to  purchase  the 
last  step  to  the  consulship.  He  was  impeached  when  he 
came  back  for  extortion  and  oppression,  under  one  of  the 

108 


B.  c.  63]  CATILINE  109 

many  laws  which  were  made  to  be  laughed  at.  Till  his 
trial  was  over  he  was  disqualified  from  presenting  himself 
as  a  candidate,  and  the  election  for  the  year  65  was  carried 
by  Autronius  Paetus  and  Cornelius  Sylla.  Two  other 
patricians,  Aurelius  Cotta  and  Manlius  Torquatus,  had 
stood  against  them.  The  successful  competitors  were 
unseated  for  bribery;  Cotta  and  Torquatus  took  their 
places;  and,  apparently  as  a  natural  resource  in  the  exist- 
ing contempt  into  which  the  constitution  had  fallen,  the 
disappointed  candidates  formed  a  plot  to  kill  their  rivals 
and  their  rivals'  friends  in  the  Senate,  and  to  make  a  revo- 
lution. Cneius  Piso,  a  young  nobleman  of  the  bluest 
blood,  joined  in  the  conspiracy.  Catiline  threw  himself 
into  it  as  his  natural  element,  and  aristocratic  tradition 
said  in  later  years  that  Caesar  and  Crassus  were  implicated 
also.  Some  desperate  scheme  there  certainly  was,  but  the 
accounts  of  it  are  confused:  one  authority  says  that  it  failed 
because  Catiline  gave  the  signal  prematurely;  others  that 
Caesar  was  to  have  given  the  signal,  and  did  not  do  it; 
others  that  Crassus's  heart  failed  him;  others  that  the 
consuls  had  secret  notice  given  to  them  and  took  precau- 
tions. Cicero,  who  was  in  Rome  at  the  time,  declares  that  he 
never  heard  of  the  conspiracy.^  When  evidence  is  incon- 
clusive, probability  becomes  argument.  Nothing  can  be 
less  likely  than  that  a  cautious  capitalist  of  vast  wealth  like 
Crassus  should  have  connected  himself  with  a  party  of  dis- 
solute adventurers.  Had  Caesar  committed  himself,  jeal- 
ously watched  as  he  was  by  the  aristocrats,  some  proofs 
of  his  complicity  would  have  been  forthcoming.  The 
aristocracy  under  the  empire  revenged  themselves  for  their 
ruin  by  charging  Caesar  with  a  share  in  every  combination 
that  had  been  formed  against  them,  from  Sylla's  time 
downwards.  Be  the  truth  what  it  may,  nothing  came  of 
this  project.  Piso  went  to  Spain,  where  he  was  killed. 
The  prosecution  of  Catiline  for  his  African  misgovernment 
was  continued,  and,  strange  to  say,  Cicero  undertook  his 
defence.  He  was  under  no  uncertainty  as  to  Catiline's 
general    character,  or  his  particular  guilt  in  the  charge 


no  JULIUS  CvESAR  [b.  c.  63 

brought  against  him.  It  was  plain  as  the  sun  at  midday.* 
But  Cicero  was  about  to  stand  himself  for  the  consulship, 
the  object  of  his  most  passionate  desire.  He  had  several 
competitors;  and  as  he  thought  well  of  CatiUne's  prospects, 
he  intended  to  coalesce  with  him.^  Catiline  was  acquitted, 
apparently  through  a  special  selection  of  the  judges,  with 
the  connivance  of  the  prosecutor.  The  canvass  was  vio- 
lent, and  the  corruption  flagrant.®  Cicero  did  not  bribe 
himself,  but  if  Catiline's  voters  would  give  him  a  help,  he 
was  not  so  scrupulous  as  to  be  above  taking  advantage 
of  it.  Catiline's  humour  or  the  circumstances  of  the 
time  provided  him  with  a  more  honourable  support. 
He  required  a  more  manageable  colleague  than  he 
could  have  found  in  Cicero.  Among  the  candidates 
was  one  of  Sylla's  officers,  Caius  Antonius,  the  uncle 
of  Marc  Antony,  the  triumvir.  This  Antonius  had  been 
prosecuted  by  Caesar  for  ill-usage  of  the  Macedonians. 
He  had  been  expelled  by  the  censors  from  the  Senate 
for  general  worthlessness;  but  public  disgrace  seems  to 
have  had  no  effect  whatever  on  the  chances  of  a  candi- 
date for  the  consulship  in  this  singular  age.  Antonius 
was  weak  and  vicious,  and  Catiline  could  mould  him 
as  he  pleased.  He  had  made  himself  popular  by  his  pro- 
fusion when  sedile  in  providing  shows  for  the  mob.  The 
feeling  against  the  Senate  was  so  bitter  that  the  aristoc- 
racy had  no  chance  of  carrying  a  candidate  of  their  own, 
and  the  competition  was  reduced  at  last  to  Catiline,  An- 
tonius, and  Cicero.  Antonius  was  certain  of  his  election, 
and  the  contest  lay  between  Catiline  and  Cicero.  Each 
of  them  tried  to  gain  the  support  of  Antonius  and  his 
friends.  Catihne  promised  Antonius  a  revolution,  in 
which  they  were  to  share  the  world  between  them. 
Cicero  promised  his  influence  to  obtain  some  lucrative 
province  for  Antonius  to  misgovern.  Catiline  would  prob- 
ably have  succeeded,  when  the  aristocracy,  knowing  what 
to  expect  if  so  scandalous  a  pair  came  into  office,  threw 
their  weight  on  Cicero's  side,  and  turned  the  scale.  Cicero 
was  liked  among  the  people  for  his  prosecution  of  Verres, 


[b.  c.  63  CICERO  ELECTED   CONSUL  III 

for  his  support  of  the  ManiHan  law,  and  for  the  boldness 
with  which  he  had  exposed  patrician  delinquencies.  With 
the  Senate  for  him  also,  he  was  returned  at  the  head  of  the 
poll.  The  proud  Roman  nobility  had  selected  a  self-made 
lawyer  as  their  representative.  Cicero  was  consul,  and 
Antonius  with  him.  Catiline  had  failed.  It  was  the  turn- 
ing-point of  Cicero's  life.  Before  his  consulship  he  had 
not  irrevocably  taken  a  side.  No  public  speaker  had  more 
eloquently  shown  the  necessity  for  reform;  no  one  had 
denounced  with  keener  sarcasm  the  infamies  and  folHes  of 
senatorial  favourites.  Conscience  and  patriotism  should 
have  alike  held  him  to  the  reforming  party;  and  political 
instinct,  if  vanity  had  left  him  the  use  of  his  perception, 
would  have  led  him  in  the  same  direction.  Possibly  before 
he  received  the  votes  of  the  patricians  and  their  clients,  he 
had  bound  himself  with  certain  engagements  to  them. 
Possibly  he  held  the  Senate's  intellect  cheap,  and  saw  the 
position  which  he  could  arrive  at  among  the  aristocracy 
if  he  offered  them  his  services.  The  strongest  intellect 
was  with  the  reformers,  and  first  on  that  side  he  could 
never  be.  First  among  the  Conservatives^  he  could  easily 
be;  and  he^ight  prefer  being  at  the  head  of  a  party  which 
at  heart  he  despised  to  working  at  the  side  of  persons  who 
must  stand  inevitably  above  him.  We  may  regret  that 
gifted  men  should  be  influenced  by  personal  considera- 
tions, but  under  party  government  it  is  a  fact  that  they  are 
so  influenced,  and  will  be  as  long  as  it  continues.  Caesar 
and  Pompey  were  soldiers.  The  army  was  democratic, 
and  the  triumph  of  the  democracy  meant  the  rule  of  a  pop- 
ular general.  Cicero  was  a  civilian,  and  a  man  of  speech. 
In  the  Forum  and  in  the  Curia  he  knew  that  he  could 
reign  supreme. 

Cicero  had  thus  reached  the  highest  step  in  the  scale 
of  promotion  by  trimming  between  the  rival  factions. 
Caesar  was  rising  simultaneously  behind  him  on  lines  of 
his  own.  In  the  year  B.  C.  65  he  had  been  sedile,  having 
for  his  colleague  Bibulus,  his  future  companion  on  the  suc- 
cessive grades  of  ascent.     Bibulus  was  a  rich  ^l^beian^ 


112  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.C.  63 

whose  delight  in  office  was  the  introduction  which  it  gave 
him  into  the  society  of  the  great;  and  in  his  poHtics  he 
outdid  his  aristocratic  patrons.  The  sediles  had  charge 
of  the  public  buildings  and  the  games  and  exhibitions  in 
the  capital.  The  sedileship  was  a  magistracy  through 
which  it  was  ordinarily  necessary  to  pass  in  order  to  reach 
the  consulship;  and  as  the  aediles  were  expected  to  bear 
their  own  expenses,  the  consulship  was  thus  restricted  to 
those  who  could  afford  an  extravagant  outlay.  They  were 
expected  to  decorate  the  city  with  new  ornaments,  and  to 
entertain  the  people  with  magnificent  spectacles.  If  they 
fell  short  of  public  expectation,  they  need  look  no  further 
for  the  suffrages  of  their  many-headed  master.  Cicero 
had  slipped  through  the  aedileship,  without  ruin  to  himself. 
He  was  a  self-raised  man,  known  to  be  dependent  upon  his 
own  exertions,  and  liked  from  the  willingness  with  which 
he  gave  his  help  to  accused  persons  on  their  trials.  Thus 
no  great  demands  had  been  made  upon  him.  Caesar, 
either  more  ambitious  or  less  confident  in  his  services, 
raised  a  new  and  costly  row  of  columns  in  front  of  the  Capi- 
tol. He  built  a  temple  to  the  Dioscuri,  and  he  charmed 
the  populace  with  a  show  of  gladiators  unusually  exten- 
sive. Personally  he  cared  nothing  for  these  sanguinary 
exhibitions,  and  he  displayed  his  indifference  ostenta- 
tiously by  reading  or  writing  while  the  butchery  was  going 
forward.^  But  he  required  the  favour  of  the  multitude, 
and  then,  as  always,  took  the  road  which  led  most  directly 
to  his  end.  The  noble  lords  watched  him  suspiciously, 
and  their  uneasiness  was  not  diminished  when,  not  content 
with  having  produced  the  insignia  of  Marius  at  his  aunt's 
funeral,  he  restored  the  trophies  for  the  victories  over  the 
Cimbri  and  Teutons,  which  had  been  removed  by  Sylla.^ 
The  name  of  Marius  was  growing  every  day  more  dear  toj 
the  popular  party.  They  forgave,  if  they  had  ever  re- 
sented, his  cruelties.  His  veterans  who  had  fought  with/ 
him  through  his  campaigns  came  forward  in  tears  to 
salute  the  honoured  relics  of  their  once  glorious  com- 
mander. 


B.  c.  63]      INQUIRY  INTO   THE   SYLLAN   PROSCRIPTION        II 3 

As  he  felt  the  ground  stronger  under  his  feet,  Caesar 
now  began  to  assume  an  attitude  more  peremptorily 
marked.  He  had  won  a  reputation  in  the  Forum;  he  had 
spoken  in  the  Senate;  he  had  warmly  advocated  the  ap- 
pointment of  Pompey  to  his  high  commands;  and  he  was 
regarded  as  a  prominent  democratic  leader.  But  he  had 
not  aspired  to  the  tribunate;  he  had  not  thrown  himself 
into  politics  with  any  absorbing  passion.  His  exertions 
had  been  intermittent,  and  he  was  chiefly  known  as  a  bril- 
liant member  of  fashionable  society,  a  peculiar  favourite 
with  women,  and  remarkable  for  his  abstinence  from  the 
coarse  debauchery  which  disgraced  his  patrician  contem- 
poraries. He  was  now  playing  for  a  higher  stake,  and  the 
oligarchy  had  occasion  to  be  reminded  of  Sylla's  prophecy. 
In  carrying  out  the  proscription,  Sylla  had  employed  pro- 
fessional assassins,  and  payments  had  been  made  out  of 
the  treasury  to  wretches  who  came  to  him  with  bloody 
trophies  in  their  hands  to  demand  the  promised  fees.  The 
time  had  come  when  these  doings  were  to  be  looked  into; 
hundreds  of  men  had  been  murdered,  their  estates  confis- 
cated, and  their  families  ruined,  who  had  not  been  even 
ostensibly  guilty  of  any  public  crime.  At  Caesar's  instance 
an  inquiry  was  ordered.  He  himself  was  appointed  Judex 
Quaestionis,  or  chairman  of  a  committee  of  investigation; 
and  Catiline,  among  others,  was  called  to  answer  for  him- 
self— a  curious  commentary  on  Caesar's  supf)osed  connec- 
tion with  him. 

Nor  did  the  inquisition  stop  with  Sylla.  Titus  La- 
bienus,  afterwards  so  famous  and  so  infamous,  was  then 
tribune  of  the  people.  His  father  had  been  killed  at  the 
side  of  Saturninus  and  Glaucia  thirty-seven  years  before, 
when  the  young  lords  of  Rome  had  unroofed  the  senate 
house,  and  had  pelted  them  and  their  companions  to  death 
with  tiles.  One  of  the  actors  in  the  scene,  Caius  Rabi- 
rius,  now  a  very  old  man,  was  still  alive.  Labienus  prose- 
cuted him  before  Caesar.  Rabirius  was  condemned,  and 
appealed  to  the  people;  and  Cicero,  who  had  just  been 
made  consul,   spoke  in  his   defence.     On  this  occasion 

8 


1 14  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  63 

Cicero  for  the  first  time  came  actively  in  collision  with 
Caesar.  His  language  contrasted  remarkably  with  the 
tone  of  his  speeches  against  Verres  and  for  the  Manilian 
law.  It  was  adroit,  for  he  charged  Marius  with  having 
shared  the  guilt,  if  guilt  there  had  been,  in  the  death  of 
those  men;  but  the  burden  of  what  he  said  was  to  defend 
enthusiastically  the  conservative  aristocracy,  and  to  cen- 
sure with  all  his  bitterness  the  democratic  reformers. 
Rabirius  was  acquitted,  perhaps  justly.  It  was  a  hard 
thing  to  revive  the  memory  of  a  political  crime  which  had 
been  shared  by  the  whole  patrician  order  after  so  long  an 
interval.  But  Cicero  had  shown  his  new  colours;  no  help, 
it  was  evident,  was  thenceforward  to  be  expected  from  him 
in  the  direction  of  reform.  The  popular  party  replied  in 
a  singular  manner.  The  office  of  Pontifex  Maximus  was 
the  most  coveted  of  all  the  honours  to  which  a  Roman  citi- 
zen could  aspire.  It  was  held  for  life:  it  was  splendidly 
endowed;  and  there  still  hung  about  the  pontificate  the 
traditionary  dignity  attaching  to  the  chief  of  the  once  sin- 
cerely believed  Roman  religion.  Like  other  objects  of 
ambition,  the  nomination  had  fallen,  with  the  growth  of 
democracy,  to  the  people,  but  the  position  had  always  been 
held  by  some  member  of  the  old  aristocracy;  and  Sylla,  to 
secure  them  in  the  possession  of  it,  had  re^^erted  to  the 
ancient  constitution,  and  had  restored  to  the  Sacred  Col- 
lege the  privilege  of  choosing  their  head.  Under  the  im- 
pulse which  the  popular  party  had  received  from  Pom- 
pey's  successes,  Labienus  carried  a  vote  in  the  assembly, 
by  which  the  people  resumed  the  nomination  to  the  pon- 
tificate to  themselves.  In  the  same  year  it  fell  vacant  by 
the  death  of  the  aged  Metellus  Pius.  Two  patricians, 
Quintus  Catulus  and  Caesar's  old  general  Servilius  Isauri- 
cus,  were  the  Senate's  candidates,  and  vast  sums  were  sub- 
scribed and  spent  to  secure  the  success  of  one  or  other 
of  the  two.  Caesar  came  forward  to  oppose  them.  Caesar 
aspired  to  be  Pontifex  Maximus — Pope  of  Rome-T7he 
who  of  all  men  living  was  the  least  given  to  illusion; 
he  who  was  the  most  frank  in  his  confession  of  entire 


B.C.  63]  C^SAR  ELECTED   PONTIFEX  MAXIMUS  115 

disbelief  in  the  legends  which,  though  few  credited  them 
any  more,  yet  almost  all  thought  it  decent  to  pretend 
to  credit.  Among  the  phenomena  of  the  time  this  was 
surely  the  most  singular.  Yet  Caesar  had  been  a  priest 
from  his  boyhood,  and  why  should  he  not  be  Pope?  H^ 
offered  himself  to  the  Comitia.  Committed  as  he  was  to 'a 
contest  with  the  richest  men  in  Rome,  he  spent  money 
freely.  He  was  in  debt  already  for  his  expenses  as  aedile. 
He  engaged  his  credit  still  deeper  for  this  new  competi- 
tion. The  story  ran  that  when  his  mother  kissed  hirri  as 
he  was  leaving  his  home  for  the  Forum  on  the  morning  of 
the  election,  he  told  her  that  he  would  return  as  pontiff,  6jy 
she  would  never  see  him  more.  He  was  chosen  by  arj 
overwhelming  majority;  the  votes  given  for  him  bei^ 
larger  than  the  collective  numbers  of  the  votes  entered  foj 
his  opponents. 

The  election  for  the  pontificate  was  on  the  6th  of  March, 
and  soon  after  Caesar  received  a  further  evidence  of  popular 
favour  on  being  chosen  praetor  for  the  next  year.  As  the 
liberal  party  was  growing  in  courage  and  definiteness, 
Cicero  showed  himself  more  decidedly  on  the  other  side. 
Now  was  the  time  for  him,  highly  placed  as  he  was,  to 
prevent  a  repetition  of  the  scandals  which  he  had  so  elo- 
quently denounced,  to  pass  laws  which  no  future  Verres  or 
Lucullus  could  dare  to  defy.  Now  was  his  opportunity 
to  take  the  wind  out  of  the  reformers'  sails,  and  to  grapple 
himself  with  the  thousand  forms  of  patrician  villainy  which 
he  well  knew  to  be  destroying  the  Commonwealth.  Nbt 
one  such  measure,  save  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  check 
election  bribery,  distinguished  the  consulship  of  Cicero. 
His  entire  efforts  were  directed  to  the  combination  in  a 
solid  phalanx  of  the  equestrian  and  patrician  orders.  The 
danger  to  society,  he  had  come  to  think,  was  an  approach- 
ing war  against  property,  and  his  hope  was  to  unite  the 
rich  of  both  classes  in  defence  against  the  landless  and 
moneyless  multitudes.®  The  land  question  had  become 
again  as  pressing  as  in  the  time  of  the  Gracchi.  The  peas- 
ant proprietors  were  melting  away  as  fast  as  ever,  and 


Il6  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.C.  63 

Rome  was  becoming  choked  with  impoverished  citizens, 
who  ought  to  have  been  farmers  and  fathers  of  famihes, 
but  were  degenerating  into  a  rabble  fed  upon  the  corn 
grants,  and  occupied  with  nothing  but  spectacles  and  poli- 
tics. The  Agrarian  laws  in  the  past  had  been  violent,  and 
might  reasonably  be  complained  of;  but  a  remedy  could 
now  be  found  for  this  fast  increasing  mischief  without  in- 
jury to  anyone.  Pompey's  victories  had  filled  the  public 
treasury.  Vast  territories  abroad  had  lapsed  to  the  pos- 
session of  the  State;  and  RuUus,  one  of  the  tribunes,  pro- 
posed that  part  of  these  territories  should  be  sold,  and  that 
out  of  the  proceeds  and  out  of  the  money  which  Pompey 
had  sent  home,  farms  should  be  purchased  in  Italy  and 
poor  citizens  settled  upon  them.  Rullus's  scheme  might 
have  been  crude,  and  the  details  of  it  objectionable;  but  to 
attempt  the  problem  was  better  than  to  sit  still  and  let  the 
evil  go  unchecked.  If  the  bill  was  impracticable  in  its 
existing  form,  it  might  have  been  amended;  and  so  far  as 
the  immediate  effect  of  such  a  law  was  concerned,  it  was 
against  the  interests  of  the  democrats.  The  popular  vote 
depended  for  its  strength  on  the  masses  of  poor  who  were 
crowded  into  Rome;  and  the  tribune  was  proposing  to 
weaken  his  own  army.  But  the  very  name  of  an  Agrarian 
law  set  patrician  householders  in  a  flutter,  and  Cicero 
stooped  to  be  their  advocate.  He  attacked  Rullus  with 
brutal  sarcasm.  He  insulted  his  appearance;  he  ridiculed 
his  dress,  his  hair,  and  his  beard.  He  mocked  at  his  bad 
enunciation  and  bad  grammar.  No  one  more  despised 
the  mob  than  Cicero;  but  because  Rullus  had  said  that  the 
city  rabble  was  dangerously  powerful,  and  ought  to  be 
"  drawn  off  "  to  some  wholesome  employment,  the  elo- 
quent consul  condescended  to  quote  the  words,  to  score  a 
point  against  his  opponent;  and  he  told  the  crowd  that 
their  tribune  had  described  a  number  of  excellent  citizens 
to  the  Senate  as  no  better  than  the  contents  of  a  cesspool.J^^ 
By  these  methods  Cicero  caught  the  people's  voices.^ 
The  plan  came  to  nothing,  and  his  consulship  would  have 
waned  away,  undistinguished  by  any  act  which  his  coun- 


B.C.  63]  THE  CATILINE      CONSPIRACY  II 7 

try  would  have  cared  to  remember,  but  for  an  accident 
which  raised  him  for  a  moment  into  a  position  of  real  con- 
sequence, and  impressed  on  his  own  mind  a  conviction 
that  he  was  a  second  Romulus. 

Revolutionary  conspiracies  are  only  formidable  when 
the  government  against  which  they  are  directed  is  already 
despised  and  detested.  As  long  as  an  administration  is 
endurable  the  majority  of  citizens  prefer  to  bear  with  it, 
and  will  assist  in  repressing  violent  attempts  at  its  over- 
throw. Their  patience,  however,  may  be  exhausted,  and 
the  disgust  may  rise  to  a  point  when  any  change  may  seem 
an  improvement.  Authority  is  no  longer  shielded  by  the 
majesty  with  which  it  ought  to  be  surrounded.  It  has 
made  public  its  own  degradation;  and  the  most  worthless 
adventurer  knows  that  he  has  no  moral  indignation  to  fear 
if  he  tries  to  snatch  the  reins  out  of  hands  which  are  at  least 
no  more  pure  than  his  own.  If  he  can  dress  his  endeavours 
in  the  livery  of  patriotism,  if  he  can  put  himself  forward  as 
the  champion  of  an  injured  people,  he  can  cover  the  scan- 
dals of  his  own  character  and  appear  as  a  hero  and  a  liber- 
ator. Catiline  had  missed  the  consulship,  and  was  a 
ruined  man.  He  had  calculated  on  succeeding  to  a  prov- 
ince where  he  might  gather  a  golden  harvest  and  come 
home  to  live  in  splendour,  like  Lucullus.  He  had  failed  de- 
feated by  a  mere  plebeian,  whom  his  brother  patricians  had 
stooped  to  prefer  to  him.  Were  the  secret  history  known 
of  the  contest  for  the  consulship,  much  might  be  discov- 
ered there  to  explain  Cicero's  and  Catiline's  hatred  of  each 
other.  Cicero  had  once  thought  of  coalescing  with  Cati- 
line, notwithstanding  his  knowledge  of  his  previous  crimes: 
Catiline  had  perhaps  hoped  to  dupe  Cicero,  and  had  been 
himself  outwitted.  He  intended  to  stand  again  for  the 
year  62,  but  evidently  on  a  different  footing  from  that  on 
which  he  had  presented  himself  before.  That  such  a  man 
should  have  been  able  to  ofifer  himself  at  all,  and  that  such 
a  person  as  Cicero  should  have  entered  into  any  kind  of 
amicable  relations  with  him,  was  a  sign  by  itself  that  the 
Commonwealth  was  already  sickening  for  death. 


Il8  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  63 

Catiline  was  surrounded  by  men  of  high  birth  whose  for- 
tunes were  desperate  as  his  own.  There  was  Lentulus, 
who  had  been  consul  a  few  years  before,  and  had  been  ex- 
pelled from  the  Senate  by  the  censors.  There  was  Cethe- 
gus,  staggering  under  a  mountain  of  debts.  There  was 
Autronius,  who  had  been  unseated  for  bribery  when  chosen 
consul  in  65.  There  was  Manlius,  once  a  distinguished 
officer  in  Sylla's  army,  and  now  a  beggar.  Besides  these 
were  a  number  of  senators,  knights,  gentlemen,  and  disso- 
lute young  patricians,  whose  theory  of  the  world  was  that 
it  had  been  created  for  them  to  take  their  pleasure  in,  and 
who  found  their  pleasures  shortened  by  emptiness  of  purse. 
To  them,  as  to  their  betters,  the  Empire  was  but  a  large 
dish  out  of  which  they  considered  that  they  had  a  right  to 
feed  themselves.  They  were  defrauded  of  their  proper 
share,  and  Catiline  was  the  person  who  could  help  them 
to  it. 

Etruria  was  full  of  Sylla's  disbanded  soldiers,  who  had 
squandered  their  allotments,  and  were  hanging  about,  un- 
occupied and  starving.  Catiline  sent  down  Manlius,  their 
old  officer,  to  collect  as  many  as  he  could  of  them 
without  attracting  notice.  He  himself,  as  the  election 
day  approached,  and  Cicero's  year  of  office  was  draw- 
ing to  an  end,  took  up  the  character  of  an  aristocratic 
demagogue,  and  asked  for  the  suffrages  of  the  people  as 
the  champion  of  the  poor  against  the  rich,  as  the  friend  of 
the  wretched  and  oppressed;  and  those  who  thought  them- 
selves wretched  and  oppressed  in  Rome  were  so  large  a 
body,  and  so  bitterly  hostile  were  they  all  to  the  prosperous 
classes,  that  his  election  was  anticipated  as  a  certainty. 
In  the  Senate  the  consulship  of  Catiline  was  regarded  as 
no  less  than  an  impending  national  calamity.  Marcus 
Cato,  great-grandson  of  the  Censor,  then  growing  into 
fame  by  his  acrid  tongue  and  narrow  republican  fanati- 
cism, who  had  sneered  at  Pompey^s  victories  as  triumphs 
over  women,  and  had  not  spared  even  Cicero  himself, 
threatened  Catiline  in  the  Curia.  Catiline  answered,  in  a 
fully  attended  house,  that  if  any  agitation  was  kindled 


B.  c.  63]  THE  CATILINE  CONSPIRACY  1 19 

against  him  he  would  put  it  out  not  with  water,  but  with 
revolution.  His  language  became  so  audacious  that,  on 
the  eve  of  election  day,  Cicero  moved  for  a  postponement, 
that  the  Senate  might  take  his  language  into  considera- 
tion. Catiline's  conduct  was  brought  on  for  debate,  and 
the  consul  called  on  him  to  explain  himself.  There  was 
no  concealment  in  Catiline.  Then  and  always  Cicero 
admits  he  was  perfectly  frank.  He  made  no  excuses.  He 
admitted  the  truth  of  what  had  been  reported  of  him. 
The  State,  he  said,  had  two  bodies,  one  weak  (the  aris- 
tocracy), with  a  weak  leader  (Cicero) ;  the  other,  the  great 
mass  of  the  citizens — strong  in  themselves,  but  without  a 
head,  and  he  himself  intended  to  be  that  head."  A  groan 
was  heard  in  the  house,  but  less  loud  than  in  Cicero's  opin- 
ion it  ought  to  have  been;  and  Catiline  sailed  out  in 
triumph,  leaving  the  noble  lords  looking  in  each  other's 
faces. 

Both  Cicero  and  the  Senate  were  evidently  in  the 
greatest  alarm  that  Catiline  would  succeed  constitutionally 
in  being  chosen  consul,  and  they  strained  every  sinew  to 
prevent  so  terrible  a  catastrophe.  When  the  Comitia 
came  on,  Cicero  admits  that  he  occupied  the  voting  place 
in  the  Campus  Martins  with  a  guard  of  men  who  could  be 
depended  on.  He  was  violating  the  law,  which  forbade 
the  presence  of  an  armed  force  on  those  occasions.  He 
excused  himself  by  pretending  that  Catiline's  party  in- 
tended violence,  and  he  appeared  ostentatiously  in  a  breast- 
plate as  if  his  own  life  was  aimed  at.  The  result  was,  that 
Catiline  failed  once  more,  and  was  rejected  by  a  small 
majority.  Cicero  attributes  his  defeat  to  the  moral  effect 
produced  by  the  breastplate.  But  from  the  time  of  the 
Gracchi  downwards  the  aristocracy  had  not  hesitated  to 
lay  pressure  on  the  elections  when  they  could  safely  do  it; 
and  the  story  must  be  taken  with  reservation,  in  the 
absence  of  a  more  impartial  account  than  we  possess  of  the 
purpose  to  which  Cicero's  guard  was  applied.  Undoubt- 
edly it  was  desirable  to  strain  the  usual  rules  to  keep  a 
wretch  like  Catiline  from  the  consulship;  but  as  certainly. 


120  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  63 

both  before  the  election  and  after  it,  Catiline  had  the  sym- 
pathies of  a  very  large  part  of  the  resident  inhabitants  of 
the  city,  and  these  sympathies  must  be  taken  into  account 
if  we  are  to  understand  the  long  train  of  incidents  of  which 
this  occasion  was  the  beginning. 

Two  strict  aristocrats,  Decimus  Silanus  and  Lucius 
Murena,^^  were  declared  elected.  Pompey  was  on  his  way 
home,  but  had  not  yet  reached  Italy.  There  were  no 
regular  troops  in  the  whole  Peninsula,  and  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  an  army  was  the  body  of  Syllans,  whom  Manlius 
had  quietly  collected  at  Fiesole.  Cicero's  colleague,  An- 
tonius,  was  secretly  in  communication  with  Catiline,  evi- 
dently thinking  it  likely  that  he  would  succeed.  CatiUne 
determined  to  wait  no  longer,  and  to  raise  \an  insurrec- 
tion in  the  capital,  with  slave  emancipation  aiid  a  cancel- 
ling of  debt  for  a  cry.  Manlius  was  to  march  on  Rome, 
and  the  Senate,  it  was  expected,  would  fall  without  a  blow. 
Caesar  and  Crassus  sent  a  warning  to  Cicero  to  be  on  his 
guard.  Caesar  had  called  Catiline  to  account  for  his  doings 
at  the  time  of  the  proscription,  and  knew  his  nature  too 
well  to  expect  benefit  to  the  people  from  a  revolution  con- 
ducted under  the  auspices  of  bankrupt  patrician  adven- 
turers. No  citizen  had  more  to  lose  than  Crassus  from  a 
crusade  of  the  poor  against  the  rich.  But  they  had  both 
been  suspected  two  years  before;  and  in  the  excited  temper 
of  men's  minds,  they  took  precautions  for  their  own  repu- 
tation's sake,  as  well  as  for  the  safety  of  the  State. 
Quintus  Curius,  a  senator,  who  was  one  of  the  conspira- 
tors, was  meanwhile  betraying  his  accomplices,  and  gave 
daily  notice  to  the  consuls  of  each  step  which  was  con- 
templated. But  so  weak  was  authority,  and  so  dangerous 
the  temper  of  the  people,  that  the  difficulty  was  to  know 
what  to  do.  Secret  information  was  scarcely  needed. 
Catiline,  as  Cicero  said,  was  "  apertissimus,"  most  frank  in 
the  declaration  of  his  intentions.  Manlius's  army  at 
Fiesole  was  an  open  fact,  and  any  day  might  bring  news 
that  he  was  on  the  march  to  Rome.  The  Senate,  as  usual 
in  extreme  emergencies,  declared  the  State  in  danger,  and 


B.  c.  63]  THE   CATILINE   CONSPIRACY  121 

gave  the  consuls  unlimited  powers  to  provide  for  public 
security.  So  scornfully  confident  was  Catiline,  that  he 
offered  to  place  himself  under  surveillance  at  the  house  of 
any  senator  whom  Cicero  might  name,  or  to  reside  with 
Cicero  himself,  if  the  consul  preferred  to  keep  a  personal 
eye  upon  him.  Cicero  answered  that  he  dared  not  trust 
himself  with  so  perilous  a  guest. 

So  for  a  few  days  matters  hung  in  suspense,  Manlius 
expecting  an  order  to  advance,  Catiline  waiting  apparently 
for  a  spontaneous  insurrection  in  the  city  before  he  gave 
the  word.  Intended  attempts  at  various  points  had  been 
baffled  by  Cicero's  precautions.  At  last,  finding  that  the 
people  remained  quiet,  Catiline  called  a  meeting  of  his 
friends  one  stormy  night  at  the  beginning  of  November, 
and  it  was  agreed  that  two  of  the  party  should  go  the  next 
morning  at  dawn  to  Cicero's  house,  demand  to  see  him  on 
important  business,  and  kill  him  in  his  bed.  Curius,  who 
was  present,  immediately  furnished  Cicero  with  an  account 
of  what  had  passed.  When  his  morning  visitors  arrived, 
they  were  told  that  they  could  not  be  admitted;  and  a 
summons  was  sent  round  to  the  senators  to  assemble  im- 
mediately at  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  Stator — one  of  the 
strongest  positions  in  the  city.^^  The  audacious  Catiline 
attended,  and  took  his  usual  seat;  everyone  shrank  from 
him,  and  he  was  left  alone  on  the  bench.  Then  Cicero 
rose.  In  the  Senate,  where  to  speak  was  the  first  duty  of 
man,  he  was  in  his  proper  element,  and  had  abundant 
courage.  He  addressed  himself  personally  to  the  principal 
conspirator.  He  exposed,  if  exposure  be  the  fitting  word 
when  half  the  persons  present  knew  as  much  as  he  could 
tell  them,  the  history  of  Catiline's  proceedings.  He  de- 
scribed, in  detail,  the  meeting  of  the  past  evening,  looking 
round  perhaps  in  the  faces  of  the  senators,  who,  he  was 
aware,  had  been  present  at  it.  He  spoke  of  the  visit  de- 
signed to  himself  in  the  morning,  which  had  been  baffled 
by  his  precautions.  He  went  back  over  the  history  of  the 
preceding  half-century.  Fresh  from  the  defence  of  Rabi- 
rius,   he   showed   how   dangerous   citizens,    the   Gracchi, 


122  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  63 

Saturninus,  Glaucia,  had  been  satisfactorily  killed  when 
they  were  meditating  mischief.  He  did  not  see  that  a  con- 
stitution was  already  doomed,  when  the  ruling  powers  were 
driven  to  assassinate  their  opponents,  because  a  trial  with 
the  forms  of  law  would  have  ended  in  their  acquittal.  He 
told  Catiline  that,  under  the  powers  which  the  Senate  had 
conferred  on  him,  he  might  order  his  instant  execution. 
He  detailed  Catiline's  past  enormities,  which  he  had  for- 
gotten when  he  sought  his  friendship,  and  he  ended  in 
bidding  him  leave  the  city,  go,  and  join  Manlius  and  his 
army. 

Never  had  Cicero  been  greater,  and  never  did  oratory 
end  in  a  more  absurd  conclusion.  He  dared  not  arrest 
Catiline.  He  confessed  that  he  dared  not.  There  was  not 
a  doubt  that  Catiline  was  meditating  a  revolution — but  a 
revolution  was  precisely  what  half  the  world  was  wishing 
for.  Rightly  read,  those  sounding  paragraphs,  those 
moral  denunciations,  those  appeals  to  history  and  patriotic 
sentiment,  were  the  funeral  knell  of  the  Roman  Common- 
wealth. 

Let  Catiline  go  into  open  war,  Cicero  said,  and  then 
there  would  no  longer  be  a  doubt.  Then  all  the  world 
would  admit  his  treason.  Catiline  went;  and  what  was  to 
follow  next?  Antonius,  the  second  consul,  was  notor- 
iously not  to  be  relied  on.  The  other  conspirators,  sen- 
ators who  sat  Hstening  while  Cicero  poured  out  his  elo- 
quent indignation,  remained  still  in  the  city  with  the 
threads  of  insurrection  in  their  hands,  and  were  encour- 
aged to  persevere  by  the  evident  helplessness  of  the  govern- 
ment. The  imperfect  record  of  history  retains  for  us  only 
the  actions  of  a  few  individuals  whom  special  talent  or 
special  circumstances  distinguished,  and  such  information 
is  only  fragmentary.  We  lose  sight  of  the  unnamed  seeth- 
ing multitudes  by  whose  desires  and  by  whose  hatreds  the 
stream  of  events  was  truly  guided.  The  party  of  revolu- 
tion was  as  various  as  it  was  wide.  Powerful  wealthy 
men  belonged  to  it,  who  were  politically  dissatisfied; 
ambitious  men   of  rank,   whose   money   embarrassments 


B.  c.  63]  THE  CATILINE    CONSPIRACY  1 23 

weighted  them  in  the  race  against  their  competitors;  old 
officers  and  Soldiers  of  Sylla,  who  had  spent  the  fortunes 
which  they  had  won  by  violence,  and  were  now  trying  to 
bring  him  back  from  the  dead  to  renew  their  lease  of 
plunder;  ruined  wretches  without  number,  broken  down 
with  fines  and  proscriptions,  and  debts  and  the  accumula- 
tion of  usurious  interest.  Add  to  these  ''  the  dangerous 
classes,"  the  natural  enemies  of  all  governments:  par- 
ricides, adulterers,  thieves,  forgers,  escaped  slaves, 
brigands,  and  pirates  who  had  lost  their  occupation;  and, 
finally,  Catiline's  own  chosen  comrades,  the  smooth-faced 
patrician  youths  with  curled  hair  and  redolent  of  perfumes, 
as  yet  beardless  or  with  the  first  down  upon  their  chins, 
wearing  scarfs  and  veils  and  sleeved  tunics  reaching  to 
their  ankles,  industrious  but  only  with  the  dice-box,  night 
watchers  but  in  the  supper  rooms,  in  the  small  hours  before 
dawn,  immodest,  dissolute  boys,  whose  education  had 
been  in  learning  to  love  and  to  be  loved,  to  sing  and  to 
dance  naked  at  the  midnight  orgies,  and  along  with  it  to 
handle  poniards  and  mix  poisoned  bowls.^* 

Well  might  Cicero  be  alarmed  at  such  a  combination; 
well  might  he  say,  that  if  a  generation  of  such  youths  lived 
to  manhoed,  there  would  be  a  commonwealth  of  Catilines. 
But  what  was  to  be  thought  of  the  prospects  of  a  society 
in  which  such  phenomena  were  developing  themselves? 
Cicero  bade  them  all  go, — follow  their  chief  into  the  war, 
and  perish  in  the  snow  of  the  Apennines.  But  how,  if 
they  would  not  go?  How,  if  from  the  soil  of. Rome  under 
the  rule  of  his  friends  the  Senate,  fresh  crops  of  such  youths 
would  rise  perennially?  The  Commonwealth  needed 
more  drastic  medicine  than  eloquent  exhortations,  how- 
ever true  the  picture  might  be. 

None  of  the  promising  young  gentlemen  took  Cicero's 
advice.  Catiline  went  alone,  and  joined  Manlius,  and  had 
he  come  on  at  once  he  might  perhaps  have  taken  Rome. 
The  army  was  to  support  an  insurrection,  and  the  insur- 
rection was  to  support  the  army.  Catiline  waited  for  a 
signal  from  his  friends  in  the  city,  and  Lentulus,  Cethegus, 


124  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  63 

Autronius,  and  the  rest  of  the  leaders  waited  for  Catiline 
to  arrive.  Conspirators  never  think  that  they  have  taken 
precautions  enough,  or  have  gained  alHes  enough;  and  in 
endeavouring  to  secure  fresh  support,  they  made  a  fatal  mis- 
take. An  embassy  of  Allobroges  was  in  the  city,  a  frontier 
tribe  on  the  borders  of  the  Roman  province  in  Gaul,  who 
were  allies  of  Rome,  though  not  as  yet  subjects.  The 
Gauls  were  the  one  foreign  nation  whom  the  Romans 
really  feared.  The  passes  of  the  Alps  alone  protected  Italy 
from  the  hordes  of  German  or  Gallic  barbarians,  whose 
numbers  being  unknown  were  supposed  to  be  exhaustless. 
Middle-aged  men  could  still  remember  the  panic  at  the  in- 
vasion of  the  Cimbri  and  Teutons,  and  it  was  the  chief 
pride  of  the  democrats  that  the  State  had  been  saved  by 
their  own  Marius.  At  the  critical  moment  it  was  dis- 
covered that  the  conspirators  had  entered  into  a  corre- 
spondence with  these  Allobroges,  and  had  actually  pro- 
posed to  them  to  make  a  fresh  inroad  over  the  Alps.  The 
suspicion  of  such  an  intention  at  once  .alienated  from  Cati- 
line the  respectable  part  of  the  democratic  party.  The 
fact  of  the  communication  was  betrayed  to  Cicero.  He 
intercepted  the  letters;  he  produced  them  in  the  Senate 
with  the  seals  unbroken,  that  no  suspicion  might  rest  upon 
himself.  Lentulus  and  Cethegus  were  sent  for,  and  could 
not  deny  their  hands.  The  letters  were  then  opened  and 
read,  and  no  shadow  of  uncertainty  any  longer  remained 
that  they  had  really  designed  to  bring  in  an  army  of  Gauls. 
Such  of  the  conspirators  as  were  known  and  were  still 
within  reach  were  instantly  seized. 

Cicero,  with  a  pardonable  laudation  of  himself  and  of  the 
Divine  Providence  of  which  he  professed  to  regard  himself 
as  the  minister,  congratulated  his  country  on  its  escape 
from  so  genuine  a  danger;  and  he  then  invited  the  Senate 
to  say  what  was  to  be  done  with  these  apostates  from  their 
order,  whose  treason  was  now  demonstrated.  A  plot  for 
a  mere  change  of  government,  for  the  deposition  of  the 
aristocrats,  and  the  return  to  power  of  the  popular  party, 
it   might   be  impolitic,   perhaps   impossible,    severely   to 


B.  c.  63]  THE   CATILINE  CONSPIRACY  1 25 

punish,  but  Catiline  and  his  friends  had  planned  the  be- 
trayal of  the  State  to  the  barbarians;  and  with  persons  who 
had  committed  themselves  to  national  treason  there  was 
no  occasion  to  hesitate.  Cicero  produced  the  list  of  those 
whom  he  considered  guilty,  and  there  were  some  among 
his  friends  who  thought  the  opportunity  might  be  used  to 
get  rid  of  dangerous  enemies,  after  the  fashion  of  Sylla, 
especially  of  Crassus  and  Caesar.  The  name  of  Crassus  was 
first  mentioned,  some  said  by  secret  friends  of  Catiline, 
who  hoped  to  alarm  the  Senate  into  inaction  by  showing 
with  whom  they  would  have  to  deal.  Crassus,  it  is 
possible,  knew  more  than  he  had  told  the  consul.  Cati- 
line's success  had,  at  one  moment,  seemed  assured;  and 
great  capitalists  are  apt  to  insure  against  contingencies. 
But  Cicero  moved  and  carried  a  resolution  that  the  charge 
against  him  was  a  wicked  invention.  The  attempt  against 
Caesar  was  more  determined.  Old  Catulus,  whom  Caesar 
had  defeated  in  the  contest  for  the  pontificate,  and  Caius 
Calpurnius  Piso,^^  a  bitter  aristocrat,  whom  Caesar  had 
prosecuted  for  misgovernment  in  Gaul,  urged  Cicero  to 
include  his  name.  But  Cicero  was  too  honourable  to  lend 
himself  to  an  accusation  which  he  knew  to  be  false.  Some 
of  the  young  lords  in  their  disappointment  threatened 
Caesar  at  the  senate-house  door  with  their  swords;  but  the 
attack  missed  its  mark,  and  served  only  to  show  how 
dreaded  Caesar  already  was,  and  how  eager  a  desire  there 
was  to  make  an  end  of  him. 

The  list  submitted  for  judgment  contained  the  names 
of  none  but  those  who  were  indisputably  guilty.  The 
Senate  voted  at  once  that  they  were  traitors  to  the  State. 
The  next  question  was  of  the  nature  of  their  punishment. 
In  the  first  place  the  persons  of  public  officers  were  sacred, 
and  Lentulus  was  at  the  time  a  praetor.  And  next  the  Sem- 
pronian  law  forbade  distinctly  that  any  Roman  citizen 
should  be  put  to  death  without  a  trial,  and  without  the 
right  of  appeal  to  the  assembly.^^  It  did  not  mean  simply 
that  Roman  citizens  were  not  to  be  murdered,  or  that  at 
any  time  it  had  been  supposed  that  they  might.     The 


126  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  63 

object  was  to  restrain  the  extraordinary  power  claimed  by 
the  Senate  of  setting  the  laws  aside  on  exceptional  occa- 
sions. Silanus,  the  consul-elect  for  the  following  year,  was, 
according  to  usage,  asked  to  give  his  opinion  first.  He 
voted  for  immediate  death.  One  after  the  other  the 
voices  were  the  same,  till  the  turn  came  of  Tiberius  Nero, 
the  great-grandfather  of  Nero  the  Emperor.  Tiberius 
was  against  haste.  He  advised  that  the  prisoners 
should  be  kept  in  confinement  till  Catiline  was  taken 
or  killed,  and  that  the  whole  affair  should  then  be  care- 
fully investigated.  Investigation  was  perhaps  what 
many  senators  were  most  anxious  to  avoid.  When 
Tiberius  had  done,  Caesar  rose.  The  speech  which  Sallust 
places  in  his  mouth  was  not  an  imaginary  sketch  of  what 
Sallust  supposed  him  likely  to  have  said,  but  the  ver- 
sion generally  received  of  what  he  actually  did  say,  and  the 
most  important  passages  of  it  are  certainly  authentic.  For 
the  first  time  we  see  through  the  surface  of  Caesar's  out- 
ward actions  into  his  real  mind.  During  the  three  quarters 
of  a  century  which  had  passed  since  the  death  of  the  elder 
Gracchus  one  political  murder  had  followed  upon  another. 
Every  conspicuous  democrat  had  been  killed  by  the  aristo- 
crats in  some  convenient  disturbance.  No  constitution 
could  survive  when  the  law  was  habitually  set  aside  by  vio- 
lence; and  disdaining  the  suspicion  with  which  he  knew 
that  his  words  would  be  regarded,  Caesar  warned  the  Senate 
against  another  act  of  precipitate  anger  which  would  be 
unlawful  in  itself,  unworthy  of  their  dignity,  and  likely  in 
the  future  to  throw  a  doubt  upon  the  guilt  of  the  men  upon 
whose  fate  they  were  deliberating.  He  did  not  extenuate, 
he  rather  emphasized,  the  criminality  of  Catiline  and  his 
confederates;  but  for  that  reason  and  because  for  the 
present  no  reasonable  person  felt  the  slightest  uncertainty 
about  it,  he  advised  them  to  keep  within  the  lines  which  the 
law  had  marked  out  for  them.  He  spoke  with  respect  of 
Silanus.  He  did  not  suppose  him  to  be  influenced  by  feel- 
ings of  party  animosity.  Silanus  had  recommended  the 
execution  of  the  prisoners,  either  because  he  thought  their 


B.  c.  63]  THE    CATILINE    CONSPIRACY  12/ 

lives  incompatible  with  the  safety  of  the  State,  or  because 
no  milder  punishment  seemed  adequate  to  the  enormity 
of  their  conduct.  But  the  safety  of  the  State,  he  said,  with 
a  compliment  to  Cicero,  had  been  sufHciently  provided 
for  by  the  diligence  of  the  consul.  As  to  ptmishment,  none 
could  be  too  severe;  but  with  that  remarkable  adherence  to 
fact,  which  always  distinguished  Caesar,  that  repudiation 
of  illusion  and  sincere  utterance  of  his  real  belief,  whatever 
that  might  be,  he  contended  that  death  was  not  a  punish- 
ment at  all.  Death  was  the  end  of  human  suffering.  In 
the  grave  there  was  neither  joy  nor  sorrow.  When  a  man 
was  dead  he  ceased  to  be.^^  He  became  as  he  had  been 
before  he  was  born.  Probably  almost  everyone  in  the 
Senate  thought  like  Caesar  on  this  subject.  Cicero  cer- 
tainly did.  The  only  difference  was,  that  plausible  states- 
men affected  a  respect  for  the  popular  superstition,  and 
pretended  to  believe  what  they  did  not  believe.  Caesar 
spoke  his  convictions  out.  There  was  no  longer  any 
solemnity  in  an  execution.  It  was  merely  the  removal  out 
of  the  way  of  troublesome  persons ;  and  convenient  as  such 
a  method  might  be,  it  was  of  graver  consequence  that  the 
Senate  of  Rome,  the  guardians  of  the  law,  should  not  set 
an  example  of  violating  the  law.  Illegality,  Caesar  told 
them,  would  be  followed  by  greater  illegalities.  He  re- 
minded them  how  they  had  applauded  Sylla,  how  they  had 
rejoiced  when  they  saw  their  political  enemies  summarily 
despatched;  and  yet  the  proscription,  as  they  well  knew, 
had  been  perverted  to  the  license  of  avarice  and  private 
revenge.  They  might  feel  sure  that  no  such  consequence 
need  be  feared  under  their  present  consul:  but  times  might 
change.  The  worst  crimes  which  had  been  committed  in 
Rome  in  the  past  century  had  risen  out  of  the  imitation 
of  precedents,  which  at  the  moment  seemed  defensible. 
The  laws  had  prescribed  a  definite  punishment  for  treason. 
Those  laws  had  been  gravely  considered;  they  had  been 
enacted  by  the  great  men  who  had  built  up  the  Roman 
dominion,  and  were  not  to  be  set  aside  in  impatient  haste. 
Caesar  therefore  recommended  that  the  estates  of  the  con- 


128  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  63 

spirators  should  be  confiscated,  that  they  themselves 
should  be  kept  in  strict  and  soHtary  confinement  dispersed 
in  various  places,  and  that  a  resolution  should  be  passed 
forbidding  an  appHcation  for  their  pardon  either  to  Senate 
or  people. 

The  speech  was  weighty  in  substance  and  weightily 
delivered,  and  it  produced  its  effect.^^  Silanus  withdrew 
his  opinion.  Quintus  Cicero,  the  consul's  brother,  fol- 
lowed, and  a  clear  majority  of  the  Senate  went  with  them, 
till  it  came  to  the  turn  of  a  young  man  who  in  that  year 
had  taken  his  place  in  the  house  for  the  first  time,  who  was 
destined  to  make  a  reputation  which  could  be  set  in  compe- 
tition with  that  of  the  gods  themselves,  and  whose  moral 
opinion  could  be  held  superior  to  that  of  the  gods.^^ 

Marcus  Fortius  Cato  was  born  in  the  year  95,  and  was 
thus  five  years  younger  than  Caesar  and  eleven  years 
younger  than  Cicero.  He  was  the  great-grandson,  as  was 
said  above,  of  the  stern  rugged  Censor  who  hated  Greek, 
preferred  the  teaching  of  the  ploughtail  and  the  Twelve 
Tables  to  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle,  disbelieved  in  prog- 
ress, and  held  by  the  maxims  of  his  father — the  last,  he, 
of  the  Romans  of  the  old  type.  The  young  Marcus  af- 
fected to  take  his  ancestor  for  a  pattern.  He  resembled 
him  as  nearly  as  a  modern  Anglican  monk  resembles  St. 
Francis  or  St.  Bernard.  He  could  reproduce  the  form, 
but  it  was  the  form  with  the  Hfe  gone  out  of  it.  He  was 
immeasurably  superior  to  the  men  around  him.  He  was 
virtuous,  if  it  be  virtue  to  abstain  from  sin.  He  never 
lied.  No  one  ever  suspected  him  of  dishonesty  or  corrup- 
tion. But  his  excellences  were  not  of  the  retiring  sort. 
He  carried  them  written  upon  him  in  letters  for  all  to  read, 
as  a  testimony  to  a  wicked  generation.  His  opinions  were 
as  pedantic  as  his  life  was  abstemious,  and  no  one  was 
permitted  to  differ  from  him  without  being  held  guilty 
rather  of  a  crime  than  of  a  mistake.  He  was  an  aristocratic 
pedant,  to  whom  the  living  forces  of  humanity  seemed  but 
irrational  impulses  of  which  he  and  such  as  he  were  the 
appointed  school-masters.     To  such  a  temperament  a  man 


B.  c.  63]  THE    CATILINE    CONSPIRACY  I29 

of  genius  is  instinctively  hateful.  Cato  had  spoken  often 
in  the  Senate,  though  so  young  a  member  of  it,  denounc- 
ing the  immoral  habits  of  the  age.  He  now  rose  to  match 
himself  against  Caesar;  and  with  passionate  vehemence  he 
insisted  that  the  wretches  who  had  plotted  the  overthrow 
of  the  State  should  be  immediately  killed.  He  noticed 
Caesar's  objections  only  to  irritate  the  suspicion  in  which 
he  probably  shared,  that  Caesar  himself  was  one  of  Cati- 
line's accomplices.  That  Caesar  had  urged  as  a  reason  for 
moderation  the  absence  of  immediate  danger,  was  in  Cato's 
opinion  an  argument  the  more  for  anxiety.  Naturally, 
too,  he  did  not  miss  the  opportunity  of  striking  at  the 
scepticism  which  questioned  future  retribution.  Whether 
Cato  believed  himself  in  a  future  life  mattered  little,  if 
Caesar's  frank  avowal  could  be  turned  to  his  prejudice. 

Cato  spoke  to  an  audience  well  disposed  to  go  with  him. 
Silanus  went  round  to  his  first  view,  and  the  mass  of  sen- 
ators followed  him.  Caesar  att^empted  to  reply;  but  so 
fierce  were  the  passions  that  had  been  roused,  that  again 
he  was  in  danger  of  violence.  The  young  knights  who 
were  present  as  a  senatorial  guard  rushed  at  him  with  their 
drawn  swords.  A  few  friends  protected  him  with  their 
cloaks,  and  he  left  the  Curia  not  to  enter  it  again  for  the 
rest  of  the  year.  When  Caesar  was  gone,  Cicero  rose  to 
finish  the  debate.  He  too  glanced  at  Caesar's  infidelity, 
and  as  Caesar  had  spoken  of  the  wisdom  of  the  past  genera- 
tions, he  observed  that  in  the  same  generations  there  had 
been  a  pious  belief  that  the  grave  was  not  the  end  of  human 
existence.  With  an  ironical  compliment  to  the  prudence 
of  Caesar's  advice,  he  said  that  his  own  interest  would 
lead  him  to  follow  it;  he  would  have  the  less  to  fear  from 
the  irritation  of  the  people.  The  Senate,  he  observed), 
must  have  heard  with  pleasure  that  Caesar  condemned  the 
conspiracy.  Caesar  was  the  leader  of  the  popular  party, 
and  from  him  at  least  they  now  knew  that  they  had  nothing 
to  fear.  The  punishment  which  Caesar  recommended  was, 
in  fact,  Cicero  admitted,  more  severe  than  death.  He 
trusted,  therefore,  that  if  the  conspirators  were  executed, 


130  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  63 

and  he  had  to  answer  to  the  people  for  the  sentence  to  be 
passed  upon  them,  Caesar  himself  would  defend  him  against 
the  charge  of  cruelty.  Meanwhile  he  said  that  he  had  the 
ineffable  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  he  had  saved  the 
State.  The  Senate  might  adopt  such  resolutions  as  might 
seem  good  to  them  without  alarm  for  the  consequences. 
The  conspiracy  was  disarmed.  He  had  made  enemies 
among  the  bad  citizens;  but  he  had  deserved  and  he  had 
won  the  gratitude  of  the  good,  and  he  stood  secure  behind 
the  impregnable  bulwark  of  his  country's  love. 

So  Cicero,  in  the  first  effusion  of  self-admiration  with 
which  he  never  ceased  to  regard  his  conduct  on  this  occa- 
sion. No  doubt  he  had  acted  bravely,  and  he  had  shown 
as  much  adroitness  as  courage.  But  the  whole  truth  w'as 
never  told.  The  Senate's  anxiety  to  execute  the  prisoners 
arose  from  a  fear  that  the  people  would  be  against  them^  if 
an  appeal  to  the  assembly  was  allowed.  The  Senate  was 
contending  for  the  privilege  of  suspending  the  laws  by  its 
own  independent  will;  and  the  privilege,  if  it  was  ever  con- 
stitutional, had  become  so  odious  by  the  abuse  of  it,  that 
to  a  large  section  of  Roman  citizens,  a  conspiracy  against 
the  oligarchy  had  ceased  to  be  looked  on  as  treason  at  all. 
Cicero  and  Cato  had  their  way.  Lentulus,  Cethegus, 
Autronius,  and  their  companions  were  strangled  in  their 
cells,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  debate  upon  their  fate.  A 
few  weeks  later  Catiline's  army  was  cut  to  pieces,  and  he 
himself  was  killed.  So  desperately  his  haggard  bands  had 
fought  that  they  fell  in  their  ranks  where  they  stood,  and 
never  Roman  commander  gained  a  victory  that  cost  him 
more  dear.  So  furious  a  resistance  implied  a  motive  and 
a  purpose  beyond  any  which  Cicero  or  Sallust  records, 
and  the  commission  of  inquiry  suggested  by  Tiberius  Nero 
in  the  Senate  might  have  led  to  curious  revelations.  The 
Senate  perhaps  had  its  own  reasons  for  fearing  such  revela- 
tions, and  for  wishing  the.  voices  closed  which  could  haye^ 
made  .them,., 


8.  C.  63]  THE    CATILINE    CONSPIRACY  I3I 

Notes 

*  Page  108.  "Nunc  quis  patrem  decern  annorum  natus  non  modo  aufert 
sed  toUit  nisi  veneno  ? "— Varronis  Fragmenta,  ed.  Alexander  Riese, 
p.  216. 

'  Page  108.  See  the  story  in  Cicero,  Pro  Cluentio. 
3  Page  109.  Pro  P.  Sulia,  4. 

*  Page  no.  "  Catilina,  si  judicatum  erit,  meridie  non  lucere,  certus  erit 
competitor."— Epist.  ad  Atticum,  i.  i. 

*Page  no.  "Hoc  tempore  Catilinam,  competitorem  nostrum,  de- 
fendere  cogitamus.  Judices  habemus,  quos  volumus,  summa  accu- 
satoris  voluntate.  Spero,  si  absolutus  erit,  conjunctiorem  ilium  nobis 
fore  in  ratione  petitionis."— lb.  i.  2. 

*  Page  no.  "  Scito  nihil  tarn  exercitum  nunc  esse  Romse  quam  candi- 
datos  omnibus  iniquitatibus." — lb.  i.  11. 

'Page  III.  I  use  a  word  apparently  modem,  but  Cicero  himself  gave 
the  name  of  Conservatores  Reipublicae  to  the  party  to  which  he  be- 
longed. 

*  Page  112.  Suetonius,  speaking  of  Augustus, says: '  *  Quoties  adesset, 
nihil  praeterea  agebat,  seu  vitandi  rumoris  caus^,  quo  patrem  Caesarem 
vulgo  reprehensum  commemorabat,  quod  inter  spectandum  epistolis 
libellisque  legendis  aut  rescribendis  vacaret;  seu  studio  spectandi  et 
voluptate,"  etc. — Vita  Octavii,  45. 

•Page  115.  Writing  three  years  later  to  Atticus,  he  says:  "Con- 
firmabam  omnium  privatorum  possessiones,  is  enim  est  noster  exerci- 
tus,  ut  tute  scis  locupletium." — To  Atticus,  i.  19.  Pomponius  Atticus, 
Cicero's  most  intimate  correspondent,  was  a  Roman  knight,  who  in- 
heriting a  large  estate  from  his  father,  increased  it  by  contracts, 
banking,  money-lending,  and  slave-dealing,  in  which  he  was  deeply 
engaged.  He  was  an  accomplished,  cultivated  man,  a  shrewd  observer 
of  the  times,  and  careful  of  committing  himself  on  any  side.  His 
acquaintance  with  Cicero  rested  on  similarity  of  temperament,  with  a 
solid  financial  basis  at  the  bottom  of  it.  They  were  mutually  useful  to 
each  other. 

"  Page  1 16.  "  Et  nimium  istud  est,  quod  ab  hoc  tribuno  plebis  dictum 
est  in  senatu:  urbanam  plebem  nimium  in  republic^  posse:  exhau- 
riendam  esse:  hoc  enim  verbo  est  usus;  quasi  de  aliqui  sentin^,  ac  non 
de  optimorum  civium  genere  loqueretur." — Contra  Rullum,  ii.  26. 

"  Page  119.     Cicero,  Pro  Murend,  25. 

"Page  120.  Murena  was  afterwards  prosecuted  for  bribery  at  this 
election.  Cicero  defended  him;  but  even  Cato,  aristocrat  as  he  was, 
affected  to  be  shocked  at  the  virtuous  consul's  undertaking  so  bad  a 
case.  It  is  observable  that  in  his  speech  for  Murena,  Cicero  found  as 
many  virtues  in  Lucullus  as  in  his  speech  on  the  Manilian  Law  he  had 
found  vices.     It  was  another  symptom  of  his  change  of  attitude. 

13  Page  121.     "  In  loco  munitissimo." 

^*  Page  123.  This  description  of  the  young  Roman  aristocracy  is 
given  by  Cicero  in  his  most  powerful  vein:  "  Postremum  autem  genus 
est,  non  solum  numero,  verum  etiam  genere  ipso  atque  vita,  quod 


13-2  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  63 

proprium  est  Catilinae,  de  ejus  delectu,  immo  vero  de  complexu  ejus  ac 
sinu;  quos  pexo  capillo,  nitidos,  aut  imberbes,  aut  bene  barbatos, 
videtis,  manicatis  et  talaribus  tunicis;  velis  amictos,  non  togis: 
quorum  omnis  industria  vitae  et  vigilandi  labor  in  antelucanis  coenis 
expromitur.  In  his  gregibus  omnes  aleatores,  omnes  adulteri,  omnes 
impuri  impudicique  versantur.  Hi  pueri  tarn  lepidi  ac  delicati  non 
solum  amare  et  amari  atque  cantare  et  saltare,  sed  etiam  sicas  vibrare 
et  spargere  venena  didicerunt.  .  .  Nudiin  conviviis  saltare  didicerunt." 
— In  Catilinam,  ii.  10.     Compare  In  Pisonem,  10. 

The  Romans  shaved  their  beards  at  full  maturity,  and  therefore 
"bene barbatos  "  does  not  mean  grown  men,  but  youths  on  the  edge  of 
manhood. 

^^  Page  125.  Not  to  be  confounded  with  Lucius  Calpumius  Piso,  who 
was  Caesar's  father-in-law. 

"  Page  125.     "  Injussu  populi." 

"  Page  127.  The  real  opinion  of  educated  Romans  on  this  subject  was 
expressed  in  the  well-known  lines  of  Lucretius,  which  were  probably 
written  near  this  very  time  : 

'•  Nil  igitur  mors  est,  ad  nos  neque  pertinet  hilum, 
Quandoquidem  natura  animi  mortalis  habetur  : 
Et,  velut  ante  acto  nil  tempore  sensimus  segri, 
Ad  confligendum  venientibus  undique  Poenis  ; 
Omnia  cum  belli  trepido  concussa  tumultu, 
Horrida,  contremuere  sub  altis  aetheris  auris ; 
In  dubioque  fuit  sub  utrorum  regna  cadendum 
Omnibus  humanis  esset,  terrS.que,  marique  : 
Sic,  ubi  non  erimus,  cum  corporis  atque  animai 
Discidium  fuerit,  quibus  e  sumus  uniter  apti, 
Scilicet  baud  nobis  quicquam,  qui  non  erimus  turn, 
Accidere  omnio  poterit,  sensumque  movere  : 
Non,  si  terra  mari  miscebitur,  et  mare  coelo." 

—Lucretius  lib.  iii.  11.  842-854. 

"  Page  128.  In  the  following  century  when  Caesar's  life  had  become 
mythic,  a  story  was  current  that  when  Caesar  was  speaking  on  this  oc- 
casion a  note  was  brought  in  to  him,  and  Cato,  suspecting  that  it  re- 
ferred to  the  conspiracy,  insisted  that  it  should  be  read.  Caesar  handed 
it  to  Cato,  and  it  proved  to  be  a  love  letter  from  Cato's  sister,  Servilia, 
the  mother  of  Brutus.  More  will  be  said  of  the  supposed  liaison  be- 
tween Caesar  and  Servilia  hereafter.  For  the  present  it  is  enough  to 
say  that  there  is  no  contemporary  evidence  for  the  story  at  all ;  and 
that  if  it  be  true  that  a  note  of  some  kind  from  Servilia  was  given  to 
Caesar,  it  is  more  consistent  with  probability  and  the  other  circum- 
stances of  the  case,  that  it  was  an  innocent  note  of  business.  Ladies 
do  not  send  in  compromising  letters  to  their  lovers  when  they  are  on  their 
feet  in  Parliament  ;  nor,  if  such  an  accident  should  happen,  do  the 
lovers  pass  them  over  to  be  read  by  the  ladies'  brothers. 

*•  Page  128.  "  Victrix  causa  Deis  placuit,  sed  victa  Catoni."--LucAN. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  execution  of  Lentulus  and  Cethegus  was  re- 
ceived in  Rome  with  the  feeUng  which  Caesar  had 
anticipated.  There  was  no  active  sympathy  with 
the  conspiracy,  but  the  conspiracy  was  forgotten  in  indig- 
nation at  the  lawless  action  of  the  consul  and  the  Senate. 
It  was  still  violence — always  violence.  Was  law,  men 
asked,  never  to  resume  its  authority? — was  the  Senate  to 
deal  at  its  pleasure  with  the  lives  and  properties  of  citizens? 
— criminals  though  they  might  be,  what  right  had  Cicero 
to  strangle  citizens  in  dungeons  without  trial?  If  this  was 
to  be  allowed,  the  constitution  was  at  an  end;  Rome  was 
no  longer  a  Republic,  but  an  arbitrary  oligarchy.  Pom- 
pey's  name  was  on  every  tongue.  When  would  Pompey 
come?  Pompey,  the  friend  of  the  people,  the  terror  of  the 
aristocracy !  Pompey,  who  had  cleared  the  seas  of  pirates, 
and  doubled  the  area  of  the  Roman  dominions!  Let  Pom- 
pey return  and  bring  his  army  with  him,  and  give  to  Rome 
the  same  peace  and  order  which  he  had  already  given  to 
the  world. 

A  Roman  commander,  on  landing  in  Italy  after  foreign 
service,  was  expected  to  disband  his  legions,  and  relapse 
into  the  position  of  a  private  person.  A  popular  and  suc- 
cessful general  was  an  object  of  instinctive  fear  to  the  poli- 
ticians who  held  the  reins  of  government.  The  Senate  was 
never  pleased  to  see  any  individual  too  much  an  object  of 
popular  idolatry;  and  in  the  case  of  Pompey  their  suspicion 
was  the  greater,  on  account  of  the  greatness  of  his  achieve- 
ments, and  because  his  command  had  been  forced  upon 
them  by  the  people,  against  their  will.  In  the  absence  of 
a  garrison,  the  city  was  at  the  mercy  of  the  patricians  and 
their  clients.  That  the  noble  lords  were  unscrupulous  in 
removing  persons  whom  they  disliked  they  had  shown  in 

133 


134  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  62 

a  hundred  instances,  and  Pompey  naturally  enough  hesi- 
tated to  trust  himself  among  them  without  security.  He 
required  the  protection  of  office,  and  he  had  sent  forward 
one  of  his  most  distinguished  officers,  Metellus  Nepos,  to 
prepare  the  way  and  demand  the  consulship  for  him.  Me- 
tellus, to  strengthen  his  hands,  had  stood  for  the  tribune- 
ship;  and,  in  spite  of  the  utmost  efforts  of  the  aristocracy, 
had  been  elected.  It  fell  to  Metellus  to  be  the  first  to  give 
expression  to  the  general  indignation  in  a  way  peculiarly 
wounding  to  the  illustrious  consul.  Cicero  imagined  that 
the  world  looked  upon  him  as  its  saviour.  In  his  own  eyes 
he  was  another  Romulus,  a  second  founder  of  Rome.  The 
world,  unfortunately,  had  formed  an  entirely  different  esti- 
mate of  him.  The  prisoners  had  been  killed  on  the  5th  of 
December.  On  the  last  day  of  the  year  it  was  usual  for 
the  outgoing  consuls  to  review  the  events  of  their  term  of 
office  before  the  Senate;  and  Cicero  had  prepared  a  speech 
in  which  he  had  gilded  his  own  performances  with  all  his 
eloquence.  Metellus  commenced  his  tribunate  with  for- 
forbidding  Cicero  to  deliver  his  oration,  and  forbidding 
him  on  the  special  ground,  that  a  man  who  had  put  Roman 
citizens  to  death  without  allowing  them  a  hearing,  did  not 
himself  deserve  to  be  heard.  In  the  midst  of  the  con- 
fusion and  uproar  which  followed,  Cicero  could  only  shriek 
that  he  had  saved  his  country:  a  declaration  which  could 
have  been  dispensed  with  since  he  had  so  often  insisted 
upon  it  already  without  producing  the  assent  which  he 
desired. 

Notwithstanding  his  many  fine  qualities,  Cicero  was 
wanting  in  dignity.  His  vanity  was  wounded  in  its  ten- 
derest  point,  and  he  attacked  Metellus  a  day  or  two  after, 
in  one  of  those  violently  abusive  outpourings,  of  which  so 
many  specimens  of  his  own  survive,  and  which  happily  so 
few  other  statesmen  attempted  to  imitate.  Metellus  re- 
torted with  a  threat  of  impeaching  Cicero,  and  the  grave 
Roman  Curia  became  no  better  than  a  kennel  of  mad  dogs. 
For  days  the  storm  raged  on  with  no  symptom  of  abate- 
ment.    At  last,  Metellus  turned  to  the  people  and  pro- 


B.  c.  62]  SCENE   IN   THE   ASSEMBLY.  1 35 

posed  in  the  assembly  that  Pompey  should  be  recalled  with 
his  army  to  restore  law  and  order. 

Caesar,  who  was  now  praetor,  warmly  supported  Me- 
tellus.  To  him,  if  to  no  one  else,  it  was  clear  as  the  sun 
at  noonday,  that  unless  some  better  government  could  be 
provided  than  could  be  furnished  by  five  hundred  such 
gentlemen  as  the  Roman  senators,  the  State  was  drifting 
on  to  destruction.  Resolutions  to  be  submitted  to  the 
people  were  generally  first  drawn  in  writing,  and  were  read 
from  the  Rostra.  When  Metellus  produced  his  proposal, 
Cato,  who  was  a  tribune  also,  sprang  to  his  side,  ordered 
him  to  be  silent,  and  snatched  the  scroll  out  of  his  hands. 
Metellus  went  on,  speaking  from  memory:  Cato's  friends 
shut  his  mouth  by  force.  The  patricians  present  drew 
their  swords  and  cleared  the  Forum;  and  the  Senate,  in 
the  exercise  of  another  right  to  which  they  pretended,  de- 
clared Caesar  and  Metellus  degraded  from  their  offices. 
Metellus,  probably  at  Caesar's  advice,  withdrew  and  went 
off  to  Asia,  to  describe  what  had  passed  to  Pompey. 
Caesar  remained,  and,  quietly  disregarding  the  Senate's 
sentence,  continued  to  sit  and  hear  cases  as  praetor.  His 
court  was  forcibly  closed.  He  yielded  to  violence  and 
retired  under  protest,  being  escorted  to  the  door  of  his 
house  by  an  enormous  multitude.  There  he  dismissed  his 
lictors  and  laid  aside  his  official  dress,  that  he  might  furnish 
no  excuse  for  a  charge  against  him  of  resisting  the  estab- 
lished authorities.  The  mob  refused  to  be  comforted. 
They  gathered  day  after  day.  They  clustered  about  the 
pontifical  palace.  They  cried  to  Caesar  to  place  himself 
at  their  head,  that  they  might  tear  down  the  senate  house, 
and  turn  the  caitififs  into  the  street.  Caesar  neither  then 
nor  ever  lent  himself  to  popular  excesses.  He  reminded 
the  citizens  that  if  others  broke  the  law,  they  must  them- 
selves set  an  example  of  obeying  it,  and  he  bade  them  re- 
turn to  their  homes. 

Terrified  at  the  state  of  the  city,  and  penitent  for  their 
injustice  to  Caesar,  the  Senate  hurriedly  revoked  their  de- 
cree of  deposition,  sent  a  deputation  to  him  to  apologize, 


136  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  62 

and  invited  him  to  resume  his  place  among  them.  The 
extreme  patrician  section  remained  irreconcilable.  Caesar 
complied,  but  only  to  find  himself  denounced  again  with 
passionate  pertinacity  as  having  been  an  accomplice  of 
Catiline.  Witnesses  were  produced,  who  swore  to  having 
seen  his  signature  to  a  treasonable  bond.  Curius,  Cicero's 
spy,  declared  that  Catiline  himself  had  told  him  that  Caesar 
was  one  of  the  conspirators.  Caesar  treated  the  charge 
with  indignant  disdain.  He  appealed  to  Cicero's  con- 
science, and  Cicero  was  obHged  to  say  that  he  had  derived 
his  earliest  and  most  important  information  from  Caesar 
himself.  The  most  violent  of  his  accusers  were  placed 
under  arrest.  The  informers,  after  a  near  escape  from 
being  massacred  by  the  crowd,  were  thrown  into  prison, 
and  for  a  moment  the  furious  heats  were  able  to 
cool. 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  to  Pompey.  The  war  in  Asia 
was  over.  Pompey,  it  was  clear,  must  now  return  to  re- 
ceive the  thanks  of  his  countrymen;  and  as  he  had  tri- 
umphed in  spite  of  the  aristocracy,  and  as  his  victories 
could  neither  be  denied  nor  undone,  the  best  hope  of  the 
Senate  was  to  win  him  over  from  the  people,  and  to  prevent 
a  union  between  him  and  Caesar.  Through  all  the  recent 
dissensions  Caesar  had  thrown  his  weight  on  Pompey's 
side.  He,  with  Cicero,  had  urged  Pompey's  appointment 
to  his  successive  commands.  When  Cicero  went  over  to 
the  patricians,  Caesar  had  stood  by  Pompey's  ofBcers 
against  the  fury  of  the  Senate.  Caesar  had  the  people 
behind  him,  and  Pompey  the  army.  Unless  in  some  way 
an  apple  of  discord  could  be  thrown  between  them,  the 
two  favourites  would  overshadow  the  State,  and  the  Sen- 
ate's authority  would  be  gone.  Nothing  could  be  done 
for  the  moment  politically.  Pompey  owed  his  position 
to  the  democracy,  and  he  was  too  great  as  yet  to  fear  Caesar 
as  a  rival  in  the  Commonwealth.  On  the  personal  side 
there  was  better  hope.  Caesar  was  as  much  admired  in  tjie 
world  of  fashion  as  he  was  detested  in  the  Curia.  He  had 
no  taste  for  the  brutal  entertainments  and  more  brutal  vices 


J.  c.  62]  ROMAN   SCANDALS  137 

of  male  patrician  society.  He  preferred  the  companion- 
ship of  cultivated  women,  and  the  noble  lords  had  the  fresh 
provocation  of  finding  their  hated  antagonist  an  object  of 
adoration  to  their  wives  and  daughters.  Here,  at  any  rate, 
scandal  had  the  field  to  itself.  Caesar  was  accused  of  crimi- 
nal intimacy  with  many  ladies  of  the  highest  rank,  and 
Pompey  was  privately  informed  that  his  friend  had  taken 
advantage  of  his  absence  to  seduce  his  wife,  Mucia.  Pom- 
pey was  Agamemnon;  Caesar  had  been  ^gisthus;  and 
Pompey  was  so  far  persuaded  that  Mucia  had  been  unfaith- 
ful to  him,  that  he  divorced  her  before  his  return. 

Charges  of  this  kind  have  the  peculiar  advantage  that 
even  when  disproved  or  shown  to  be  manifestly  absurd, 
they  leave  a  stain  behind  them.  Careless  equally  of  prob- 
ability and  decency,  the  leaders  of  the  Senate  sacrificed 
without  scruple  the  reputation  of  their  own  relatives  if  only 
they  could  make  Caesar  odious.  The  name  of  Servilia  has 
been  mentioned  already.  Servilia  was  the  sister  of  Marcus 
Cato  and  the  mother  of  Marcus  Brutus.  She  was  a 
woman  of  remarkable  abiHty  and  character,  and  between 
her  and  Caesar  there  was  undoubtedly  a  close  acquaintance 
and  a  strong  mutual  affection.  The  world  discovered  that 
she  was  Caesar's  mistress,  and  that  Brutus  was  his  son. 
It  might  be  enough  to  say  that  when  Brutus  was  born 
Caesar  was  scarcely  fifteen  years  old,  and  that,  if  a  later 
intimacy  existed  between  them,  Brutus  knew  nothing  of 
it  or  cared  nothing  for  it.  When  he  stabbed  Caesar  at  last 
it  was  not  as  a  Hamlet  or  an  Orestes,  but  as  a  patriot  sacri- 
ficing his  dearest  friend  to  his  country.  The  same  doubt 
extends  to  the  other  supposed  victims  of  Caesar's  seduc- 
tiveness. Names  were  mentioned  in  the  following  cen- 
tury, but  no  particulars  were  given.  For  the  most  part 
his  alleged  mistresses  were  the  wives  of  men  who  remained 
closely  attached  to  him  notwithstanding.  The  report  of 
his  intrigue  with  Mucia  answered  its  immediate  purpose, 
in  producing  a  temporary  coldness  on  Pompey's  part  to- 
ward Caesar;  but  Pompey  must  either  have  discovered  the 
story  to  be  false  or  else  have  condoned  it,  for  soon  after- 


138  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  62 

wards  he  married  Caesar's  daughter.  Two  points  may  be 
remarked  about  these  legends:  first,  that  on  no  single  oc- 
casion does  Caesar  appear  to  have  been  involved  in  any- 
trouble  or  quarrel  on  account  of  his  love  affairs;  and  sec- 
ondly, that,  with  the  exception  of  Brutus  and  of  Cleo- 
patra's Caesarion,  whose  claims  to  be  Caesar's  son  were  de- 
nied and  disproved,  there  is  no  record  of  any  illegitimate 
children  as  the  result  of  these  amours — a  strange  thing  if 
Caesar  was  as  liberal  of  his  favours  as  popular  scandal  pre- 
tended. It  would  be  idle  to  affect  a  belief  that  Caesar  was 
particularly  virtuous.  He  was  a  man  of  the  world,  living 
in  an  age  as  corrupt  as  has  been  ever  known.  It  would 
be  equally  idle  to  assume  that  all  the  ink  blots  thrown^ 
upon  him  were  certainly  deserved,  because  we  find  them 
in  books  which  we  call  classical.  Proof  deserving  to  be 
called  proof  there  is  none;  and  the  only  real  evidence  is 
the  town  talk  of  a  society  which  feared  and  hated  Caesar, 
and  was  glad  of  every  pretext  to  injure  him  when 
alive,  or  to  discredit  him  after  his  death.  Similar  stories 
have  been  spread,  are  spread,  and  will  be  spread  of  every 
man  who  raises  himself  a  few  inches  above  the  level  of  his 
fellows.  We  know  how  it  is  with  our  contemporaries.  A 
single  seed  of  fact  will  produce  in  a  season  or  two  a  har- 
vest of  calumnies,  and  sensible  men  pass  such  things  by, 
and  pay  no  attention  to  them.  With  history  we  are  less 
careful  or  less  charitable.  An  accusation  of  immorality  is 
accepted  without  examination  when  brought  against  emi- 
nent persons  who  can  no  longer  defend  themselves,  and  to 
raise  a  doubt  of  its  truth  passes  as  a  sign  of  a  weak  under- 
standing. So  let  it  be.  It  is  certain  that  Caesar's  contem- 
poraries spread  rumours  of  a  variety  of  intrigues,  in  which 
they  said  that  he  was  concerned.  It  is  probable  that  some 
were  well  founded.  It  is  possible  that  all  were  well 
founded.  But  it  is  no  less  indubitable  that  they  rest 
on  evidence  which  is  not  evidence  at  all,  and  that  the 
most  innocent  intimacies  would  not  have  escaped  misrep- 
resentation from  the  venomous  tongues  of  Roman  society. 
Caesar  comes  into  court  with  a  fairer  character  than  those 


B.  c.  62]  ROMAN   SCANDALS  1 39 

whose  virtues  are  thought  to  overshadow  him.  Marriage, 
which  under  the  ancient  Romans  was  the  most  sacred  of 
ties,  had  become  the  Hghtest  and  the  loosest.  Cicero  di- 
vorced Terentia  when  she  was  old  and  ill-tempered,  and 
married  a  young  woman.  Cato  made  over  his  Marcia,  the 
mother  of  his  children,  to  his  friend  Hortensius,  and  took 
her  back  as  a  wealthy  widow  when  Hortensius  died. 
Pompey  put  away  his  first  wife  at  Sylla's  bidding,  and  took 
a  second  who  was  already  the  wife  of  another  man. 
Caesar,  when  little  more  than  a  boy,  dared  the  Dictator's 
displeasure  rather  than  condescend  to  a  similar  compli- 
ance. His  worst  enemies  admitted  that  from  the  gluttony, 
the  drunkenness,  and  the  viler  forms  of  sensuality,  which 
were  then  so  common,  he  was  totally  free.  For  the  rest, 
it  is  certain  that  no  friend  ever  permanently  quarrelled  with 
him  on  any  question  of  domestic  injury;  and  either  there 
was  a  general  indifference  on  such  subjects,  which  lightens 
the  character  of  the  sin,  or  popular  scandals  in  old  Rome 
were  of  no  sounder  material  than  we  find  them  composed 
of  in  other  countries  and  in  other  times. 

Turning  from  scandal  to  reality,  we  come  now  to  a 
curious  incident,  which  occasioned  a  fresh  political  con- 
vulsion, where  Caesar  appears,  not  as  an  actor  in  an  affair 
of  gallantry,  but  as  a  sufferer. 

Pompey  was  still  absent.  Caesar  had  resumed  his  du- 
ties as  a  praetor,  and  was  living  in  the  official  house  of  the 
Pontifex  Maximus,  with  his  mother  Aurelia  and  his  wife 
Pompeia.  The  age  was  fertile  of  new  religions.  The 
worship  of  the  Bona  Dea,  a  foreign  goddess  of  unknown 
origin,  had  recently  been  introduced  into  Rome,  and  an 
annual  festival  was  held  in  her  honour  in  the  house  of  one 
or  other  of  the  principal  magistrates.  The  Vestal  virgins 
officiated  at  the  ceremonies,  and  women  only  were  per- 
mitted to  be  present.  This  year  the  pontifical  palace  was 
selected  for  the  occasion,  and  Caesar's  wife  Pompeia  was  to 
preside. 

The  reader  may  remember  a  certain  youth  named  Clo- 
dius,  who  had  been  with  Lucullus  in  Asia,  and  had  been 


140  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  62 

a  chief  instigator  of  the  mutiny  in  his  army.  He  was  Lu- 
cullus's  brother-in-law,  a  member  of  the  Claudian  family, 
a  patrician  of  the  patricians,  and  connected  by  blood  and 
marriage  with  the  proudest  members  of  the  Senate.  If 
Cicero  is  to  be  believed,  he  had  graduated  even  while  a 
boy  in  every  form  of  vice,  natural  and  unnatural.  He  was 
bold,  clever,  unprincipled,  and  unscrupulous,  with  a  slender 
diminutive  figure  and  a  delicate  woman's  face.  His  name 
was  Clodius  Pulcher.  Cicero  played  upon  it  and  called 
him  Pulchellus  Puer,  ''  the  pretty  boy."  Between  this 
promising  young  man  and  Caesar's  wife  Pompeia  there  had 
sprung  up  an  acquaintance,  which  Clodius  was  anxious  to 
press  to  further  extremes.  Pompeia  was  difficult  of  ac- 
cess, her  mother-in-law  Aurelia  keeping  a  strict  watch 
over  her;  and  Clodius,  who  was  afraid  of  nothing,  took  ad- 
vantage of  the  Bona  Dea  festival  to  make  his  way  into 
Caesar's  house  dressed  as  a  woman.  Unfortunately  for 
him,  his  disguise  was  detected.  The  insulted  Vestals  and 
the  other  ladies  who  were  present  flew  upon  him  like  the 
dogs  of  Actseon,  tore  his  borrowed  garments  from  him, 
and  drove  him  into  the  street  naked  and  wounded.  The 
adventure  became  known.  It  was  mentioned  in  the  Sen- 
ate, and  the  College  of  Priests  was  ordered  to  hold  an  in- 
quiry. The  College  found  that  Clodius  had  committed 
sacrilege,  and  the  regular  course  in  such  cases  was  to  send 
the  offender  to  trial.  There  was  general  unwillingness, 
however,  to  treat  the  matter  seriously.  Clodius  had  many 
friends  in  the  house,  and  even  Cicero,  who  was  inclined  at 
first  to  be  severe,  took  on  reflection  a  more  lenient  view. 
Clodius  had  a  sister,  a  light  lady  who,  weary  of  her  con- 
quests over  her  fashionable  admirers,  had  tried  her  fascina 
tions  on  the  great  orator.  He  had  escaped  complete  sub- 
jugation, but  he  had  been  flattered  by  the  attention  of  the 
seductive  beauty,  and  was  ready  to  help  her  brother  out  of 
his  difficulty.  Clodius  was  not  yet  the  dangerous  des- 
perado which  he  afterwards  became;  and  immorality, 
though  seasoned  with  impiety,  might  easily,  it  was 
thought,  be  made  too  much  of.     Caesar  himself  did  not 


B.  c.  6i]  TRIAL    OF    CLODIUS  I4I 

press  for  punishment.  As  president  of  the  college,  he  had 
acquiesced  in  their  decision,  and  he  divorced  the  unfor- 
tunate Pompeia;  but  he  expressed  no  opinion  as  to  the 
extent  of  her  criminality,  and  he  gave  as  his  reason  for 
separating  from  her,  not  that  she  was  guilty,  but  that 
Caesar's  wife  must  be  above  suspicion. 

Cato,  however,  insisted  on  a  prosecution.  Messala,  one 
of  the  consuls,  was  equally  peremptory.  The  hesitation 
was  regarded  by  the  stricter  senators  as  a  scandal  to  the 
order;  and  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  second  consul  Piso, 
who  was  a  friend  of  Clodius,  it  was  decided  that  a  bill  for 
his  indictment  should  be  submitted  to  the  assembly  in  the 
Forum.  Clodius,  it  seems,  was  generally  popular.  No 
political  question  was  raised  by  the  proceedings  against 
him;  for  the  present  his  offence  was  merely  a  personal  one; 
the  wreck  of  Catiline's  companions,  the  dissolute  young 
aristocrats,  the  loose  members  of  all  ranks  and  classes, 
took  up  the  cause,  and  gathered  to  support  their  favourite, 
with  young  Curio,  whom  Cicero  called  in  mockery  Filiola, 
at  their  head.  The  approaches  to  the  Forum  were  occu- 
pied by  them.  Piso,  by  whom  the  bill  was  introduced, 
himself  advised  the  people  to  reject  it.  Cato  flew  to  the 
Rostra  and  railed  at  the  consul.  Hortensius,  the  orator, 
and  many  others  spoke  on  the  same  side.  It  appeared  at 
last  that  the  people  were  divided,  and  would  consent  to 
the  bill  being  passed,  if  it  was  recommended  to  them  by 
both  the  consuls.  Again,  therefore,  the  matter  was  re- 
ferred to  the  Senate.  One  of  the  tribunes  introduced 
Clodius,  that  he  might  speak  for  himself.  Cicero  had  now 
altered  his  mind,  and  was  in  favour  of  the  prosecution. 

The  "  pretty  youth  "  was  alternately  humble  and  vio- 
lent, begging  pardon,  and  then  burstmg  into  abuse  of  his 
brother-in-law,  Lucullus,  and  more  particularly  of  Cicero, 
whom  he  suspected  of  being  the  chief  promoter  of  the 
proceedings  against  him.  When  it  came  to  a  division,  the 
Senate  voted  by  a  majority  of  four  hundred  to  fifteen  that 
the  consuls  must  recommend  the  bill.  Piso  gave  way,  and 
the  tribune  also  who  had  been  in  Clodius's  favour.     The 


142  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  6i 

people  were  satisfied,  and  a  court  of  fifty-six  judges  was 
appointed,  before  whom  the  trial  was  to  take  place.  It 
seemed  that  a  conviction  must  necessarily  follow,  for  there 
was  no  question  about  the  facts,  which  were  all  admitted. 
There  was  some  manoeuvring,  however,  in  the  constitution 
of  the  court,  which  raised  Cicero's  suspicions.  The  judges, 
instead  of  being  selected  by  the  praetor,  were  chosen  by 
lot,  and  the  prisoner  was  allowed  to  challenge  as  many 
names  as  he  pleased.  The  result  was  that  in  Cicero's 
opinion  a  more  scandalous  set  of  persons  than  those  who 
were  finally  sworn  were  never  collected  round  a  gaming 
table, — "  disgraced  senators,  bankrupt  knights,  disrep- 
utable tribunes  of  the  treasury,  the  few  honest  men 
that  were  left  appearing  to  be  ashamed  of  their  company," 
— and  Cicero  considered  that  it  would  have  been  better  if 
Hortensius,  who  was  prosecuting,  had  withdrawn,  and  had 
left  Clodius  to  be  condemned  by  the  general  sense  of  re- 
spectable people,  rather  than  risk  the  credit  of  Roman 
justice  before  so  scandalous  a  tribunal.^  Still  the  case  as  it 
proceeded  appeared  so  clear  as  to  leave  no  hope  of  an  ac- 
quittal. Clodius's  friends  were  in  despair,  and  were  medi- 
tating an  appeal  to  the  mob.  The  judges,  on  the  evening 
of  the  first  day  of  the  trial,  as  if  they  had  already  decided 
on  a  verdict  of  guilty,  applied  for  a  guard  to  protect  them 
while  they  delivered  it.  The  Senate  compHmented  them 
in  giving  their  consent.  With  a  firm  expectation  present 
in  all  men's  minds  the  second  morning  dawned.  Even 
in  Rome,  accustomed  as  it  was  to  mockeries  of  justice,  pub- 
lic opinion  was  shocked  when  the  confident  anticipation 
was  disappointed.  According  to  Cicero,  Marcus  Crassus, 
for  reasons  known  to  himself,  had  been  interested  in  Clo- 
dius. During  the  night  he  sent  for  the  judges  one  by  one. 
He  gave  them  money.  What  else  he  either  gave  or  prom- 
ised them,  must  continue  veiled  in  Cicero's  Latin.^  Be- 
fore these  influences  the  resolution  of  the  judges  melted 
away,  and  when  the  time  came,  thirty-one  out  of  fifty-six 
high-born  Roman  peers  and  gentlemen  declared  Clodius 
innocent. 


B.  c.  6i]  ACQUITTAL   OF  CLODIUS  I43 

The  original  cause  was  nothing.  That  a  profligate 
young  man  should  escape  punishment  for  a  licentious  frolic 
was  comparatively  of  no  consequence;  but  the  trial  ac- 
quired a  notoriety  of  infamy  which  shook  once  more  the 
already  tottering  constitution. 

''  Why  did  you  ask  for  a  guard?  "  old  Catulus  growled 
to  the  judges:  "was  it  that  the  money  you  had  received 
might  not  be  taken  from  you?  " 

''  Such  is  the  history  of  this  affair,"  Cicero  wrote  to  his 
friend  Atticus.  "  We  thought  that  the  foundation  of  the 
Commonwealth  had  been  surely  re-established  in  my  con- 
sulship, all  orders  of  good  men  being  happily  united.  You 
gave  the  praise  to  me  and  I  to  the  gods;  and  now  unless 
some  god  looks  favourably  on  us,  all  is  lost  in  this  single 
judgment.  Thirty  Romans  have  been  found  to  trample 
justice  under  foot  for  a  bribe,  and  to  declare  an  act  not  to 
have  been  committed,  about  which  not  only  not  a  man, 
but  not  a  beast  of  the  field,  can  entertain  the  smallest 
doubt." 

Cato  threatened  the  judges  with  impeachment;  Cicero 
stormed  in  the  Senate,  rebuked  the  consul  Piso,  and  lec- 
tured Clodius  in  a  speech  which  he  himself  admired  ex- 
ceedingly. The  "  pretty  boy "  in  reply  taunted  Cicero 
with  wishing  to  make  himself  a  king.  Cicero  rejoined  with 
asking  Clodius  about  a  man  named  "  King,"  whose  estates 
he  had  appropriated,  and  reminded  him  of  a  misadventure 
among  the  pirates,  from  which  he  had  come  off  with  name- 
less ignominy.  Neither  antagonist  very  honourably  dis- 
tinguished himself  in  this  encounter  of  wit.  The  Senate 
voted  at  last  for  an  inquiry  into  the  judges'  conduct;  but 
an  inquiry  only  added  to  Cicero's  vexation,  for  his  special 
triumph  had  been,  as  he  conceived,  the  union  of  the  Sen- 
ate with  the  Equites;  and  the  Equites  took  the  resolution 
as  directed  against  themselves,  and  refused  to  be  consoled.^ 

Cassar  had  been  absent  during  these  scenes.  His  term 
of  ofHce  having  expired,  he  had  been  despatched  as  pro- 
praetor to  Spain,  where  the  ashes  of  the  Sertorian  rebel- 
lion were  still  smouldering;  and  he  had  started  for  his 


144  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  6i 

province  while  the  question  of  Clodius's  trial  was  still  pend- 
ing. Portugal  and  Gallicia  were  still  unsubdued.  Bands 
of  robbers  lay  everywhere  in  the  fastnesses  of  the  moun- 
tain ranges.  Caesar  was  already  favourably  known  in 
Spain  for  his  service  as  quaestor.  He  now  completed  the 
conquest  of  the  Peninsula.  He  put  down  the  banditti. 
He  reorganized  the  administration  with  the  rapid  skill 
which  always  so  remarkably  distinguished  him.  He  sent 
home  large  sums  of  money  to  the  treasury.  His  work 
was  done  quickly,  but  it  was  done  completely.  He  no- 
where left  an  unsound  spot  unprobed.  He  never  con- 
tented himself  with  the  superficial  healing  of  a  wound 
which  would  break  out  again  when  he  was  gone.  What 
he  began  he  finished,  and  left  it  in  need  of  no  further  sur- 
gery. As  his  reward,  he  looked  for  a  triumph  and  the 
consulship,  one  or  both;  and  the  consulship  he  knew  could 
not  well  be  refused  to  him,  unwelcome  as  it  would  be  to 
the  Senate. 

Pompey  meanwhile  was  at  last  coming  back.  All  lesser 
luminaries  shone  faint  before  the  sun  of  Pompey,  the  sub- 
duer  of  the  pirates,  the  conqueror  of  Asia,  the  glory  of  the 
Roman  name.  Even  Cicero  had  feared  that  the  fame  of 
the  saviour  of  his  country  might  pale  before  the  lustre  of 
the  great  Pompey.  "  I  used  to  be  in  alarm,"  he  confessed 
with  naive  simplicity,  "  that  six  hundred  years  hence  the 
merits  of  Sampsiceramus  *  might  seem  to  have  been  more 
than  mine."  '^  But  how  would  Pompey  appear?  Would 
he  come  at  the  head  of  his  army,  like  Sylla,  the  armed  sol- 
dier of  the  democracy,  to  avenge  the  affront  upon  his  offi- 
cers, to  reform  the  State,  to  punish  the  Senate  for  the  mur- 
der of  the  Catiline  conspirators?  Pompey  had  no  such 
views,  and  no  capacity  for  such  ambitious  operations. 
The  ground  had  been  prepared  beforehand.  The  Mucia 
story  had  perhaps  done  its  work,  and  the  Senate  and  the 
great  commander  were  willing  to  meet  each  other,  at  least 
with  outward  frendliness. 

His  successes  had  been  brilliant;  but  they  were  due 
rather  to  his  honesty  than  to  his  military  genius.     He  had 


B.C.  6i]  POMPEY'S    return  I45 

encountered  no  real  resistance,  and  Cato  had  sneered  at  his 
exploits  as  victories  over  women.  He  had  put  down  the 
buccaneers,  because  he  had  refused  to  be  bribed  by  them. 
He  had  overthrown  Mithridates  and  had  annexed  Asia 
Minor  and  Syria  to  the  Roman  dominions.  Lucullus 
could  have  done  it  as  easily  as  his  successor,  if  he  could 
have  turned  his  back  upon  temptations  to  increase  his  own 
fortune  or  gratify  his  own  passions.  The  wealth  of  the 
East  had  lain  at  Pompey's  feet,  and  he  had  not  touched  it. 
He  had  brought  millions  into  the  treasury.  He  returned, 
as  he  had  gone  out,  himself  moderately  provided  for,  and 
had  added  nothing  to  his  private  income.  He  understood, 
and  practised  strictly,  the  common  rules  of  morality.  He 
detested  dishonesty  and  injustice.  But  he  had  no  politi- 
cal insight;  and  if  he  was  ambitious,  it  was  with  the  inno- 
cent vanity  which  desires,  and  is  content  with,  admiration. 
In  the  time  of  the  Scipios  he  would  have  lived  in  an  at- 
mosphere of  universal  applause,  and  would  have  died  in 
honour  with  an  unblemished  name.  In  the  age  of  Clodius 
and  Catiline  he  was  the  easy  dupe  of  men  of  stronger  in- 
tellect than  his  own,  who  played  upon  his  unsuspicious  in- 
tegrity. His  delay  in  coming  back  had  arisen  chiefly  from 
anxiety  for  his  personal  safety.  He  was  eager  to  be  rec- 
onciled to  the  Senate,  yet  without  deserting  the  people. 
While  in  Asia,  he  had  reassured  Cicero  that  nothing  was 
to  be  feared  from  him.*  His  hope  was  to  find  friends  on  all 
sides  and  in  all  parties,  and  he  thought  that  he  had  de- 
served their  friendship. 

Thus  when  Pompey  landed  at  Brindisi  his  dreaded 
legions  were  disbanded,  and  he  proceeded  to  the  Capitol, 
with  a  train  of  captive  princes  as  the  symbols  of  his  vic- 
tories, and  wagons  loaded  with  treasure  as  an  offering  to 
his  country.  He  was  received  as  he  advanced  with  the 
shouts  of  applauding  multitudes.  He  entered  Rome  in  a 
galaxy  of  glory.  A  splendid  column  commemorated  the 
cities  which  he  had  taken,  the  twelve  million  human  be- 
ings whom  he  had  slain  or  subjected.  His  triumph  was 
the  most  magnificent  which  the  Roman  citizens  had  ever 


146  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  61 

witnessed,  and  by  special  vote  he  was  permitted  to  wear 
his  triumphal  robe  in  the  Senate  as  often  and  as  long  as 
might  please  him.  The  fireworks  over,  and  with  the  aure- 
ole of  glory  about  his  brow,  the  great  Pompey,  like  an- 
other Samson  shorn  of  his  locks,  dropped  into  impotence 
and  insignificance.  In  February,  61,  during  the  debate  on 
the  Clodius  affair,  he  made  his  first  speech  in  the  Senate. 
Cicero,  listening  with  malicious  satisfaction,  reported  that 
"  Pompey  gave  no  pleasure  to  the  wretched;  to  the  bad  he 
seemed  without  back-bone;  he  was  not  agreeable  to  the 
well-to-do;  the  wise  and  good  found  him  wanting  in  sub- 
stance; "  ^  in  short,  the  speech  was  a  failure.  Pompey  ap- 
plied for  a  second  consulship.  He  was  reminded  that  he 
had  been  consul  eight  years  previously,  and  that  the  ten 
years'  interval  prescribed  by  Sylla,  between  the  first  and 
the  second  term,  had  not  expired.  He  asked  for  lands  for 
his  soldiers,  and  for  the  ratification  of  his  acts  in  Asia. 
Cato  opposed  the  first  request,  as  likely  to  lead  to  another 
Agrarian  law.  LucuUus,  who  was  jealous  of  him,  raised 
difficulties  about  the  second,  and  thwarted  him  with  con- 
tinual delays. 

Pompey,  being  a  poor  speaker,  thus  found  himself  en- 
tirely helpless  in  the  new  field.  Cicero,  being  relieved  of 
fear  from  him  as  a  rival,  was  wise  enough  to  see  that  the 
collapse  might  not  continue,  and  that  his  real  qualities 
might  again  bring  him  to  the  front.  The  Clodius  busi- 
ness had  been  a  frightful  scandal,  and,  smooth  as  the  sur- 
face might  seem,  ugly  cracks  were  opening  all  round  the 
constitution.  The  disbanded  legions  were  impatient  for 
their  farms.  The  knights,  who  were  already  offended 
with  the  Senate  for  having  thrown  the  disgrace  of  the  Clo- 
dius trial  upon  them,  had  a  fresh  and  more  substantial 
grievance.  The  leaders  of  the  order  had  contracted  to 
farm  the  revenues  in  Asia.  They  found  that  the  terms 
which  they  had  offered  were  too  high,  and  they  claimed 
an  abatement,  which  the  Senate  refused  to  allow.  The 
Catiline  conspiracy  should  have  taught  the  necessity  of  a 
vigorous  administration.     Caecilius  Metellus  and  Lucius 


B.  c.  60]  STATE    OF    THE    COMMONWEALTH  I47 

Afranius,  who  had  been  chosen  consuls  for  the  year  60, 
were  mere  nothings.  Metellus  was  a  vacant  aristocrat/ 
to  be  depended  on  for  resisting  popular  demands,  but  with- 
out insight  otherwise;  the  second,  Afranius,  was  a  person 
"  on  whom  only  a  philosopher  could  look  without  a 
groan;"  *  and  one  year  more  might  witness  the  consulship 
of  Caesar.  "  I  have  not  a  friend,"  Cicero  wrote,  "  to  whom 
I  can  express  my  real  thoughts.  Things  cannot  long 
stand  as  they  are.  I  have  been  vehement:  I  have  put  out 
all  my  strength  in  the  hope  of  mending  matters  and  heal- 
ing our  disorders,  but  we  will  not  endure  the  necessary 
medicine.  The  seat  of  justice  has  been  publicly  debauched. 
Resolutions  are  introduced  against  corruption,  but  no  law 
can  be  carried.  The  knights  are  alienated.  The  Senate 
has  lost  its  authority.  The  concord  of  the  orders  is  gone, 
and  the  pillars  of  the  Commonwealth  which  I  set  up  are 
overthrown.  We  have  not  a  statesman,  or  the  shadow  of 
one.  My  friend  Pompey,  who  might  have  done  something, 
sits  silent,  admiring  his  fine  clothes.^®  Crassus  will  say 
nothing  to  make  himself  unpopular,  and  the  rest  are  such 
idiots  as  to  hope  that  although  the  constitution  fall  they 
will  save  their  own  fish-ponds."  Cato,  the  best  man  that 
we  have,  is  more  honest  than  wise.  For  these  three 
months  he  has  been  worrying  the  revenue  farmers,  and  will 
not  let  the  Senate  satisfy  them."  " 

It  was  time  for  Cicero  to  look  about  him.  The  Catiline 
affair  was  not  forgotten.  He  might  still  be  called  to  an- 
swer for  the  executions,  and  he  felt  that  he  required  some 
stronger  support  than  an  aristocracy  who  would  learn 
nothing  and  seemed  to  be  bent  on  destroying  themselves. 
In  letter  after  letter  he  pours  out  his  contempt  for  his 
friends  "  of  the  fish-ponds,"  as  he  called  them,  who  would 
neither  mend  their  ways  nor  let  others  mend  them.  He 
would  not  desert  them  altogether,  but  he  provided  for 
contingencies.  The  tribunes  had  taken  up  the  cause  of 
Pompey^s  legionaries.  Agrarian  laws  were  threatened, 
and  Pompey  himself  was  most  eager  to  see  his  soldiers 
satisfied.     Cicero,  who  had  hitherto  opposed  an  Agrarian 


148  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  60 

law  with  all  his  violence,  discovered  now  that  something 
might  be  said  in  favour  of  draining  "  the  sink  of  the  city,"^^ 
and  repeopling  Italy.  Besides  the  public  advantage,  he 
felt  that  he  would  please  the  mortified  but  still  popular 
Pompey;  and  he  lent  his  help  in  the  Senate  to  improving 
a  bill  introduced  by  the  tribunes,  and  endeavouring, 
though  unsuccessfully,  to  push  it  through. 

So  grateful  was  Pompey  for  Cicero's  support,  that  he 
called  him,  in  the  Senate,  "  the  saviour  of  the  world."  ^* 
Cicero  was  delighted  with  the  phrase,  and  began  to  look 
to  Pompey  as  a  convenient  ally.  He  thought  that  he 
could  control  and  guide  him  and  use  his  popularity  for 
moderate  measures.  Nay,  even  in  his  despair  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, he  began  to  regard  as  not  impossible  a  coalition 
with  Caesar.  ''  You  caution  me  about  Pompey,"  he  wrote 
to  Atticus  in  the  following  July.  ''  Do  not  suppose  that  I 
am  attaching  myself  to  him  for  my  own  protection;  but 
the  state  of  things  is  such,  that  if  we  two  disagree  the  worst 
misfortunes  may  be  feared.  I  make  no  concessions  to 
him,  I  seek  to  make  him  better,  and  to  cure  him  of  his 
popular  levity;  and  now  he  speaks  more  highly  by  far  of 
my  actions  than  of  his  own.  He  has  merely  done  well, 
he  says,  while  I  have  saved  the  State.  However  this  may 
affect  me,  it  is  certainly  good  for  the  Commonwealth. 
What  if  I  can  make  Caesar  better  also,  who  is  now  coming 
on  with  wind  and  tide?  Will  that  be  so  bad  a  thing? 
Even  if  I  had  no  enemies,  if  I  was  supported  as  universally 
as  I  ought  to  be,  still  a  medicine  which  will  cure  the  dis- 
eased parts  of  the  State  is  better  than  the  surgery  which 
would  amputate  them.  The  knights  have  fallen  ofif  from 
the  Senate.  The  noble  lords  think  they  are  in  heaven 
when  they  have  barbel  in  their  ponds  that  will  eat  out  of 
their  hands,  and  leave  the  rest  to  fate.  You  cannot  love 
Cato  more  than  I  love  him,  but  he  does  harm  with  the  best 
intentions.  He  speaks  as  if  he  was  in  Plato's  Republic, 
instead  of  being  in  the  dregs  of  that  of  Romulus.  Most 
true  that  corrupt  judges  ought  to  be  punished!  Cato  pro- 
posed it,  the  Senate  agreed;  but  the  knights  have  de- 


B.C.  6oJ  CiESAR  STANDS  FOR  THE  CONSULSHIP  149 

clared  war  upon  the  Senate.  Most  insolent  of  the  revenue 
farmers  to  throw  up  their  contract!  Cato  resisted  them, 
and  carried  his  point;  but  now  when  seditions  break  out, 
the  knights  will  not  lift  a  finger  to  repress  them.  Are  we 
to  hire  mercenaries?  Are  we  to  depend  on  our  slaves  and 
freedmen?    .    .    .    But  enough."  ^^ 

Cicero  might  well  despair  of  a  Senate  who  had  taken 
Cato  to  lead  them.  Pompey  had  come  home  in  the  best 
of  dispositions.  The  Senate  had  offended  Pompey,  and, 
more  than  that,  had  offended  his  legionaries.  They  had 
quarrelled  with  the  knights.  They  had  quarrelled  with  the 
moneyed  interests.  They  now  added  an  entirely  gratuit- 
ous affront  to  Caesar.  His  Spanish  administration  was  ad- 
mitted by  everyone  to  have  been  admirable.  He  was 
coming  to  stand  for  the  consulship,  which  could  not  be  re- 
fused; but  he  asked  for  a  triumph  also,  and  as  the  rule  stood 
there  was  a  difficulty,  for  if  he  was  to  have  a  triumph,  he 
must  remain  outside  the  walls  till  the  day  fixed  for  it,  and 
if  he  was  a  candidate  for  office,  he  must  be  present  in  per- 
son on  the  day  of  the  election.  The  custom,  though  con- 
venient in  itself,  had  been  more  than  once  set  aside. 
Caesar  applied  to  the  Senate  for  a  dispensation,  which 
would  enable  him  to  be  a  candidate  in  his  absence;  and 
Cato,  either  from  mere  dislike  of  Caesar,  or  from  a  hope 
that  he  might  prefer  vanity  to  ambition,  and  that  the 
dreaded  consulship  might  be  escaped,  persuaded  the  Sen- 
ate to  refuse.  If  this  was  the  expectation,  it  was  disap- 
pointed. Caesar  dropped  his  triumph,  came  home,  and  went 
through  the  usual  forms,  and  it  at  once  appeared  that  his 
election  was  certain,  and  that  every  powerful  influence  in 
the  State  was  combined  in  his  favour.  From  Pompey  he 
met  the  warmest  reception.  The  Mucia  bubble  had  burst. 
Pompey  saw  in  Caesar  only  the  friend  who  had  stood  by 
him  in  every  step  of  his  later  career,  and  had  braved  the 
fury  of  the  Senate  at  the  side  of  his  officer  Metellus  Nepos. 
Equally  certain  it  was,  that  Caesar,  as  a  soldier,  would  in- 
terest himself  for  Pompey's  legionaries,  and  that  they  could 
1)€  mutually  useful  to  each  other.     Caesar  had  the  people 


150  JULIUS    CiESAR  [b.  c.  60 

at  his  back,  and  Pompey  had  the  army.  The  third  great 
power  in  Rome  was  that  of  the  capitalists,  and  about  the 
attitude  of  these  there  was  at  first  some  uncertainty. 
Crassus,  who  was  the  impersonation  of  them,  was  a  friend 
of  Caesar,  but  had  been  on  bad  terms  with  Pompey. 
Caesar,  however,  contrived  to  reconcile  them;  and  thus  all 
parties  outside  the  patrician  circle  were  combined  for  a 
common  purpose.  Could  Cicero  have  taken  his  place 
frankly  at  their  side,  as  his  better  knowledge  told  him  to 
do,  the  inevitable  revolution  might  have  been  accomplished 
without  bloodshed,  and  the  course  of  history  have  been 
different.  Caesar  wished  it.  But  it  was  not  to  be.  Cicero 
perhaps  found  that  he  would  have  to  be  content  with  a 
humbler  position  than  he  had  anticipated,  that  in  such  a 
combination  he  would  have  to  follow  rather  than  to  lead. 
He  was  tempted.  He  saw  a  promise  of  peace,  safety,  in- 
fluence, if  not  absolute,  yet  considerable.  But  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  sacrifice  the  proud  position  which  he 
had  won  for  himself  in  his  consulship,  as  leader  of  the 
Conservatives;  and  he  still  hoped  to  reign  in  the  Senate, 
while  using  the  protection  of  the  popular  chiefs  as  a  shel- 
ter in  time  of  storms. 

Caesar  was  chosen  consul  without  opposition.  His 
party  was  so  powerful  that  it  seemed  at  one  time  as  if  he 
could  name  his  colleague,  but  the  Senate  succeeded  with 
desperate  efforts  in  securing  the  second  place.  They  sub- 
scribed money  profusely,  the  immaculate  Cato  prominent 
among  them.  The  machinery  of  corruption  was  well  in 
order.  The  great  nobles  commanded  the  votes  of  their 
clientele,  and  they  succeeded  in  giving  Caesar  the  same 
companion  who  had  accompanied  him  through  the  aedile- 
ship  and  the  praetorship,  Marcus  Bibulus,  a  dull,  obstinate 
fool,  who  could  be  relied  on,  if  for  nothing  else,  yet  for 
dogged  resistance  to  every  step  which  the  Senate  disap- 
proved. For  the  moment  they  appeared  to  have  thought 
that  with  Bibulus's  help  they  might  defy  Caesar,  and  reduce 
his  office  to  a  nullity.  Immediately  on  the  election  of  the 
consuls,  it  was  usual  to  determine  the  provinces  to  which 


B.  c.  6o]  CiESAR'S    CONSULSHIP  151 

they  were  to  be  appointed  when  their  consulate  should  ex- 
pire. The  regulation  lay  with  the  Senate,  and,  either  in 
mere  spleen  or  to  prevent  Caesar  from  having  the  com- 
mand of  an  army,  they  allotted  him  the  department  of  the 
**  Woods  and  Forests.''  ^®  A  very  few  weeks  had  to  pass 
before  they  discovered  that  they  had  to  dovwith  a  man 
who  was  not  to  be  turned  aside  so  slightingly. 

Hitherto  Caesar  had  been  feared  and  hated,  but  his  pow- 
ers were  rather  suspected  than  understood.  As  the  nephew 
of  Marius  and  the  son-in-law  of  Cinna,  he  was  the  natural 
chief  of  the  party  which  had  once  governed  Rome,  and  had 
been  trampled  under  the  hoof  of  Sylla.  He  had  shown  on 
many  occasions  that  he  had  inherited  his  uncle's  princi- 
ples and  could  be  daring  and  skilful  in^asserting  them. 
But  he  had  held  carefully  within  the  constitutional  lines; 
he  had  kept  himself  clear  of  conspiracies;  he  had  never,  like 
the  Gracchi,  put  himself  forward  as  a  tribune  or  attempted 
the  part  of  a  popular  agitator.  When  he  had  exerted  him- 
self in  the  political  world  of  Rome,  it  had  been  to  main- 
tain the  law  against  violence,  to  resist  and  punish  encroach- 
ments of  arbitrary  power,  or  to  rescue  the  Empire  from 
being  gambled  away  by  incapable  or  profligate  aristocrats. 
Thus  he  had  gathered  for  himself  the  animosity  of  the 
fashionable  upper  classes  and  the  confidence  of  the  body 
of  the  people.  But  what  he  would  do  in  power,  or  what 
it  was  in  him  to  do,  was  as  yet  merely  conjectural. 

At  all  events,  after  an  interval  of  a  generation,  there  was 
again  a  popular  consul,  and  on  every  side  there  was  a  har- 
vest of  iniquities  ready  for  the  sickle.  Sixty  years  had 
passed  since  the  death  of  the  younger  Gracchus;  revolution 
after  revolution  had  swept  over  the  Commonwealth,  and 
Italy  was  still  as  Tiberius  Gracchus  had  found  it.  The 
Gracchan  colonists  had  disappeared.  The  Syllan  military 
proprietors  had  disappeared — one  by  one  they  had  fallen 
to  beggary,  and  had  sold  their  holdings,  and  again  the 
country  was  parcelled  into  enormous  estates  cultivated  by 
slave  gangs.  The  Italians  had  been  emancipated,  but  the 
process  had  gone  no  further.     The  libertini,  the  sons  of  the 


152  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  59 

freedmen,  still  waited  for  equality  of  rights.  The  rich  and 
prosperous  provinces  beyond  the  Po  remained  unenfran- 
chised, while  the  value  of  the  franchise  itself  was  daily  di- 
minishing as  the  Senate  resumed  its  control  over  the 
initiative  of  legislation.  Each  year  the  elections  became 
more  corrupt.  The  Clodius  judgment  had  been  the  most 
frightful  instance  which  had  yet  occurred  of  the  depravity 
of  the  law  courts;  while,  by  Cicero's  own  admission,  not  a 
single  measure  could  pass  beyond  discussion  into  act  which 
threatened  the  interests  of  the  oligarchy.  The  consulship 
of  Caesar  was  looked  to  with  hope  from  the  respectable 
part  of  the  citizens,  with  alarm  from  the  high-born  delin- 
quents as  a  period  of  genuine  reform.  The  new  consuls 
were  to  enter  office  on  the  ist  of  January.  In  Decem- 
ber it  was  known  that  an  Agrarian  law  would  be  at  once 
proposed  under  plea  of  providing  for  Pompey's  troops; 
and  Cicero  had  to  decide  whether  he  would  act  in  earnest 
in  the  spirit  which  he  had  begun  to  show  when  the  trib- 
unes' bill  was  under  discussion,  or  would  fall  back  upon 
resistance  with  the  rest  of  his  party,  or  evade  the  difficult 
dilemma  by  going  on  foreign  service,  or  else  would  simply 
absent  himself  from  Rome  while  the  struggle  was  going 
on.  ''  I  may  either  resist,"  he  said,  "  and  there  will  be  an 
honourable  fight;  or  may  do  nothing,  and  withdraw  into 
the  country,  which  will  be  honourable  also;  or  I  may  give 
active  help,  which  I  am  told  Caesar  expects  of  me.  His 
friend,  Cornelius  Balbus,  who  was  with  me  lately,  affirms 
that  Caesar  will  be  guided  in  everything  by  my  advice  and 
Pompey's  and  will  use  his  endeavour  to  bring  Pompey 
and  Crassus  together.  Such  a  course  has  its  advantages; 
it  will  draw  me  closely  to  Pompey  and,  if  I  please,  to 
Caesar.  I  shall  have  no  more  to  fear  from  my  enemies.  I 
shall  be  at  peace  with  the  people.  I  can  look  to  quiet  in 
my  old  age.  But  the  lines  still  move  me  which  conclude 
the  third  book  (of  my  poem  on  my  consulship) :  *  Hold  to 
the  track  on  which  thou  enteredst  in  thy  early  youth,  which 
thou  pursuedst  as  consul  so  valorously  and  bravely.  In- 
crease thy  fame,  and  seek  the  praise  of  the  good.'  "  " 


B.  c.  59]  UNEASINESS  OF  CICERO  1 53 

It  had  been  proposed  to  send  Cicero  on  a  mission  to 
Egypt.  "  I  should  Hke  well,  and  I  have  long  wished,"  he 
said,  "to  see'  Alexandria  and  the  rest  of  that  country. 
They  have  had  enough  of  me  here  at  present,  and  they 
may  wish  for  me  when  I  am  away.  But  to  go  now,  and 
to  go  on  commission  from  Caesar  and  Pompey! 

I  should  blush 
To  face  the  men  and  long-robed  dames  of  Troy.'^ 

What  will  our  Optimates  say,  if  we  have  any  Optimates 
left?  Polydamas  will  throw  in  my  teeth  that  I  have  been 
bribed  by  the  Opposition — I  mean  Cato,  who  is  one  out 
of  a  hundred  thousand  to  me.  What  will  history  say  of 
me  six.  hundred  years  hence?  I  am  more  afraid  of  that 
than  of  the  chatter  of  my  contemporaries."  ^® 

So  Cicero  meditated,  thinking  as  usual  of  himself  first 
and  of  his  duty  afterwards — the  fatalest  of  all  courses  then 
and  always. 

Notes 

*  Page  142.  *'  Si  causam  quseris  absolutionis,  egestas  judicum  fuit  et 
turpitudo  .  .  .  Non  vidit  (Hortensius)  satius  esse  ilium  in  infami^  re- 
linqui  ac  sordibus  quam  infirmo  judicio  committi." — To  Atticus,  i.  16. 

'  Page  142.  "  Jam  vero,  oh  Dii  Boni  !  rem  perditam  !  etiam  noctes  cer- 
tarum  mulierum  atque  adolescentulorum  nobilium  introductiones 
nonnullis  judicibus  pro  mercedis  cumulo  fuerunt." — To  Atticus,  i.  16. 

3  Page  143.  "  Nos  hie  in  republica  infirma,  miser^  commutabilique  ver- 
samur.  Credo  enim  te  audisse,  nostros  equites  paene  a  senatu  esse  dis- 
junctos  ;  qui  primum  illud  valde  graviter  tulerunt,  promulgatum  ex 
senatus  consulto  fuisse,  ut  de  iis,  qui  ob  judicandum  pecuniam  accepis- 
sent  qusereretur.  Qua  in  re  decernend^  cum  ego  casu  non  affuissem, 
sensissemque  id  equestrem  ordinemferre  moleste,  nequeaperte  dicere  ; 
objurgavi  senatum,  ut  mihi  visus  sum,  summa  cum  auctoritate,  et  in 
causS,  non  verecund^  admodum  gravis  et  copiosus  fui." — To  Atticus,  i. 
ii.  17. 

*  Page  144.  A  nickname  under  which  Cicero  often  speaks  of  Pompey. 
^  Page  144.   "Solebatenim  me  pungere,  ne  Sampsicerami  merita  in 

patriam  ad  annos  DC  majora  viderentur,  quam  nostra." — To  Atticus, 
17. 

« Page  145.  "  Pompeius  nobis  amicissimus  esse  constat."— To  Atticus, 
i.  12. 

■'  Page  146.  "Non  jucunda  miseris,  inanis  improbis,  beatis  non  grata, 
bonis  non  gravis.     Itaque  frigebat." — To  Atticus,  i.  14. 

®Page  147.  "Metellus  non  homo,  sed  litus  atque  aer,  et  solitude 
mera."-— To  Atticus,  i.  18. 


154  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  59 

•Page  147.  •♦  Consul  est  impositus  is  nobis,  quern  nemo,  praeter  nos 
philosophos,  aspicere  sine  suspiritu  potest."— To  Atticus. 

'•  Page  147.  "  Pompeius  togulam  illam  pictam  silentio  tuetur  suam." — 
To  Atticus.  The  "picta  togula"  means  the  triumphal  robe  which 
Pompey  was  allowed  to  wear. 

"  Page  147.  "  Ceteros  jam  nosti ;  qui  ita  suntstulti,  ut  amissa  repub- 
lic&  piscinas  suas  fore  salvas  sperare  videantur." — To  Atticus. 

"  Page  147.  To  Atticus,  i.  18,  abridged. 

'^  Page  148.  '*  Sentinam  urbis,"  a  worse  word  than  he  had  blamed  in 
RuUus  three  years  before. — To  Atticus,  i.  19. 

"Page  148.  "  Pompeium  adduxi  in  earn  voluntatem,  ut  in  Senatu non 
semel,  sed  saepe,  multisque  verbis,  hujus  mihi  salutem  imperii  atque 
orbis  terrarum  adjudicarit." — To  Atticus. 

15  Page  149.  To  Atticus,  ii.  i,  abridged. 

'•  Page  151.  Silvae  callesque— to  which  "  woods  and  forests  **  is  a  near 
equivalent. 

"Page  152.    "Interea  cursus,  quos  prima  a  parte  juventae, 
Quosque  ideo  consul  virtute  animoque  petisti, 
Hos  retine  atque  auge  famam  laudesque  bonorum." 

—To  Atticus,  ii,  3. 

'•Page  153.  "Iliad,"  vi.  442.     Lord  Derby's  translation. 

"  Page  153.  To  Atticus. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE  consulship  of  Caesar  was  the  last  chance  for 
the  Roman  aristocracy.  He  was  not  a  revo- 
lutionist. Revolutions  are  the  last  desperate 
remedy  when  all  else  has  failed.  They  may  create 
as  many  evils  as  they  cure,  and  wise  men  always 
hate  them.  But  if  revolution  was  to  be  escaped, 
reform  was  inevitable,  and  it  was  for  the  Senate  to 
choose  between  the  alternatives.  Could  the  noble  lords 
have  known,  then,  in  that  their  day,  the  things  that  be- 
longed to  their  peace — could  they  have  forgotten  their 
fish-ponds  and  their  game  preserves,  and  have  remem- 
bered that,  as  the  rulers  of  the  civilized  world,  they  had 
duties  which  the  eternal  order  of  nature  would  exact  at 
their  hands,  the  shaken  constitution  might  again  have  re- 
gained stability,  and  the  forms  and  even  the  reality  of  the 
Republic  might  have  continued  for  another  century.  It 
was  not  to  be.  Had  the  Senate  been  capable  of  using  the 
opportunity,  they  would  long  before  have  undertaken 
a  reformation  for  themselves.  Even  had  their  eyes  been 
opened,  there  were  disintegrating  forces  at  work  which 
the  highest  political  wisdom  could  do  no  more  than  arrest; 
and  little  good  is  really  effected  by  prolonging  artificially 
the  lives  of  either  constitutions  or  individuals  beyond  their 
natural  period.  From  the  time  when  Rome  became  an 
Empire,  mistress  of  provinces  to  which  she  was  unable  to 
extend  her  own  liberties,  the  days  of  her  self-government 
were  numbered.  A  homogeneous  and  vigorous  people 
may  manage  their  own  affairs  under  a  popular  constitu- 
tion so  long  as  their  personal  characters  remain  undegene- 
rate.  Parliaments  and  Senates  may  represent  the  general 
will  of  the  community,  and  may  pass  laws  and  administer 
them  as  public  sentiment  approves.     But  such  bodies  can 

155 


156  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  59 

preside  successfully  only  among  subjects  who  are  directly 
represented  in  them.  They  are  too  ignorant,  too  selfish, 
too  divided,  to  govern  others;  and  Imperial  aspirations 
draw  after  them,  by  obvious  necessity,  an  Imperial  rule. 
Caesar  may  have  known  this  in  his  heart,  yet  the  most  far- 
seeing  statesman  will  not  so  trust  his  own  misgivings  as  to 
refuse  to  hope  for  the  regeneration  of  the  institutions  into 
which  he  is  born.  He  will  determine  that  justice  shall  be 
done.  Justice  is  the  essence  of  government,  and  without 
justice  all  forms,  democratic  or  monarchic,  are  tyrannies 
alike.  But  he  will  work  with  the  existing  methods  till  the 
inadequacy  of  them  has  been  proved  beyond  dispute. 
Constitutions  are  never  overthrown  till  they  have  pro- 
nounced sentence  on  themselves. 

Csesar  accordingly  commenced  ofBce  by  an  endeavour  to 
conciliate.  The  army  and  the  moneyed  interests,  repre- 
sented by  Pompey  and  Crassus,  were  already  with  him; 
and  he  used  his  endeavours,  as  has  been  seen,  to  gain 
Cicero,  who  might  bring  with  him  such  part  of  the  landed 
aristocracy  as  were  not  hopelessly  incorrigible.  With 
Cicero  he  but  partially  succeeded.  The  great  orator 
solved  the  problem  of  the  situation  by  going  away  into  the 
country  and  remaining  there  for  the  greater  part  of  the 
year,  and  Csesar  had  to  do  without  an  assistance  which,  in 
the  speaking  department,  would  have  been  invaluable  to 
him.  His  first  step  was  to  order  the  publication  of  the 
"  Acta  Diurna,"  a  daily  journal  of  the  doings  of  the  Senate. 
The  light  of  day  being  thrown  in  upon  that  august  body 
might  prevent  honourable  members  from  laying  hands 
on  each  other  as  they  had  lately  done,  and  might  enable 
the  people  to  know  what  was  going  on  among  them — on 
a  better  authority  than  rumour.  He  then  introduced  his 
Agrarian  law,  the  rough  draft  of  which  had  been  already 
discussed,  and  had  been  supported  by  Cicero  in  the  pre^ 
ceding  year.  Had  he  meant  to  be  defiant,  like  the  Grac- 
chi, he  might  have  offered  it  at  once  to  the  people.  In- 
stead of  doing  so,  he  laid  it  before  the  Senate,  inviting 
them  to  amend  his  suggestions,  and  promising  any  reas- 


B.  c.  59]  AN    AGRARIAN    LAW  157 

enable  concessions  if  they  would  co-operate.  No  wrong 
was  to  be  done  to  any  existing  occupiers.  No  right  of 
property  was  to  be  violated  which  was  any  real  right  at 
all.  Large  tracts  in  Campania  which  belonged  to  the 
State  were  now  held  on  the  usual  easy  terms  by  great 
landed  patricians.  These  Caesar  proposed  to  buy  out,  and 
to  settle  on  the  ground  twenty  thousand  of  Pompey's 
veterans.  There  was  money  enough  and  to  spare  in  the 
treasury,  which  they  had  themselves  brought  home.  Out 
of  the  large  funds  which  would  still  remain,  land  might  be 
purchased  in  other  parts  of  Italy  for  the  rest,  and  for  a 
few  thousand  of  the  unemployed  population  which  was 
crowded  into  Rome.  The  measure  in  itself  was  admitted 
to  be  a  moderate  one.  Every  pains  had  been  taken  to 
spare  the  interests  and  to  avoid  hurting  the  susceptibil- 
ities of  the  aristocrats.  But,  as  Cicero  said,  the  very  name 
of  an  Agrarian  law  was  intolerable  to  them.  It  meant  in 
the  end  spoliation  and  division  of  property,  and  the  first 
step  would  bring  others  after  it.  The  public  lands  they 
had  shared  conveniently  among  themselves  from  imme- 
morial time.  The  public  treasure  was  their  treasure,  to 
be  laid  out  as  they  might  think  proper.  Cato  headed  the 
opposition.  He  stormed  for  an  entire  day,  and  was  so 
violent  that  Caesar  threatened  him  with  arrest.  The  Sen- 
ate groaned  and  foamed;  no  progress  was  made  or  was 
likely  to  be  made;  and  Caesar,  as  much  in  earnest  as  they 
were,  had  to  tell  them  that  if  they  would  not  help  him,  he 
must  appeal  to  the  assembly.  ''  I  invited  you  to  revise  the 
law,"  he  said;  "  I  was  willing  that  if  any  clause  displeased 
you  it  should  be  expunged.  You  will  not  touch  it. 
.  Well  then,  the  people  must  decide." 

The  Senate  had  made  up  their  minds  to  fight  the  battle. 
If  Caesar  went  to  the  assembly,  Bibulus,  their  second  con- 
sul, might  stop  proceedings.  If  this  seemed  too  extreme 
a  step,  custom  provided  other  impediments  to  which  re- 
course might  be  had.  Bibulus  might  survey  the  heavens, 
watch  the  birds,  or  the  clouds,  or  the  direction  of  the  wind, 
and  declare  the  aspects  unfavourable;  or  he  might  pro- 


158  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.C.  59 

claim  day  after  day  to  be  holy,  and  on  holy  days  no  legisla- 
tion was  permitted.  Should  these  religious  cobwebs  be 
brushed  away,  the  Senate  had  provided  a  further  resource 
in  «three  of  the  tribunes  whom  they  had  bribed.  Thus 
they  held  themselves  secure,  and  dared  Caesar  to  do  his 
worst.  Caesar  on  his  side  was  equally  determined.  The 
assembly  was  convoked.  The  Forum  was  choked  to  over- 
flowing. Caesar  and  Pompey  stood  on  the  steps  of  the 
Temple  of  Castor,  and  Bibulus  and  his  tribunes  were  at 
hand  ready  with  their  interpellations.  Such  passions  had 
not  been  roused  in  Rome  since  the  days  of  Cinna  and  Oc- 
tavius,  and  many  a  young  lord  was  doubtless  hoping  that 
the  day  would  not  close  without  another  lesson  to  ambi- 
tious demagogues  and  howling  mobs.  In  their  eyes  the 
one  reform  which  Rome  needed  was  another  Sylla. 

Caesar  read  his  law  from  the  tablet  on  which  it  was  in- 
scribed; and,  still  courteous  to  his  antagonist,  he  turned  to 
Bibulus  and  asked  him  if  he  had  any  fault  to  find.  Bibulus 
said  sullenly  that  he  wanted  no  revolutions,  and  that  while 
he  was  consul  there  should  be  none.  The  people  hissed; 
and  he  then  added  in  a  rage,  "  You  shall  not  have  your 
law  this  year  though  every  man  of  you  demand  it." 
Caesar  answered  nothing,  but  Pompey  and  Crassus  stood 
forward.  They  were  not  officials,  but  they  were  real 
forces.  Pompey  was  the  idol  of  every  soldier  in  the  State, 
and  at  Caesar's  invitation  he  addressed  the  assembly.  He 
spoke  for  his  veterans.  He  spoke  for  the  poor  citizens. 
He  said  that  he  approved  the  law  to  the  last  letter  of  it. 

"  Will  you  then,"  asked  Caesar,  "  support  the  law  if  it 
be  illegally  opposed?  "  "  Since,"  replied  Pompey,  "  you 
consul,  and  you  my  fellow  citizens,  ask  aid  of  me,  a  poor 
individual  without  office  and  without  authority,  who  never- 
theless has  done  some  service  to  the  State,  I  say  that  I 
will  bear  the  shield,  if  others  draw  the  sword."  Applause 
rang  out  from  a  hundred  thousand  throats.  Crassus  fol- 
lowed to  the  same  purpose,  and  was  received  with  the 
same  wild  delight.  A  few  senators,  who  retained  their 
senses,  saw  the  uselessness  of  the  opposition,  and  retired. 


B.  c.  59]  SCENE  IN    THE   FORUM  1 59 

Bibulus  was  of  duller  and  tougher  metal.  As  the  vote  was 
about  to  be  taken,  he  and  his  tribunes  rushed  to  the  ros- 
tra. The  tribunes  pronounced  their  veto.  Bibulus  said 
that  he  had  consulted  the  sky;  the  gods  forbade  further 
action  being  taken  that  day,  and  he  declared  the  assembly 
dissolved.  Nay,  as  if  a  man  like  Caesar  could  be  stopped 
by  a  shadow,  he  proposed  to  sanctify  the  whole  remainder 
of  the  year,  that  no  further  business  might  be  transacted 
in  it.  Yells  drowned  his  voice.  The  mob  rushed  upon 
the  steps;  Bibulus  was  thrown  down,  and  the  rods  of  the 
lictors  were  broken;  the  tribunes  who  had  betrayed  their 
order  were  beaten.  Cato  held  his  ground,  and  stormed 
at  Caesar,  till  he  was  led  off  by  the  police,  raving  and  ges- 
ticulating. The  law  was  then  passed,  and  a  resolution  be- 
sides, that  every  senator  should  take  an  oath  to  obey  it. 

So  in  ignominy  the  Senate's  resistance  collapsed:  the 
Caesar  whom  they  had  thought  to  put  off  with  their 
"  woods  and  forests,"  had  proved  stronger  than  the  whole 
of  them;  and,  prostrate  at  the  first  round  of  the  battle, 
they  did  not  attempt  another.  They  met  the  following 
morning.  Bibulus  told  his  story,  and  appealed  for  sup- 
port. Had  the  Senate  complied,  they  would  probably 
have  ceased  to  exist.  The  oath  was  unpalatable,  but  they 
made  the  best  of  it.  Metellus  Celer,  Cato,  and  Favonius, 
a  senator  whom  men  called  Cato's  ape,  struggled  against 
their  fate,  but  "  swearing  they  would  ne'er  consent,  con- 
sented." The  unwelcome  formula  was  swallowed  by  the 
whole  of  them;  and  Bibulus,  who  had  done  his  part  and  had 
been  beaten  and  kicked  and  trampled  upon,  and  now  found 
his  employers  afraid  to  stand  by  him,  went  off  sulkily  to 
his  house,  shut  himself  up  there,  and  refused  to  act  as  con- 
sul further  during  the  remainder  of  the  year. 

There  was  no  further  active  opposition.  A  commission 
was  appointed  by  Caesar  to  carry  out  the  Land  act,  com- 
posed of  twenty  of  the  best  men  that  could  be  found,  one 
of  them  being  Atius  Balbus,  the  husband  of  Caesar's  only 
sister,  and  grandfather  of  a  little  child  now  three  years' 
old,  who  was-known  afterwards  to  the  world,  as  Augustus^ 


l6o  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.c.  59 

Cicero  was  offered  a  place,  but  declined.  The  land  ques- 
tion having  been  disposed  of,  Caesar  then  proceeded  with 
the  remaining  measures  by  which  his  consulship  was  im- 
mortalized. He  had  redeemed  his  promise  to  Pompey  by 
providing  for  his  soldiers.  He  gratified  Crassus  by  giving 
the  desired  relief  to  the  farmers  of  the  taxes.  He  con- 
firmed Pompey's  arrangements  for  the  government  of 
Asia,  which  the  Senate  had  left  in  suspense.  The  Senate 
was  now  itself  suspended.  The  consul  acted  directly  with 
the  assembly,  without  obstruction,  and  without  remon- 
strance, Bibulus  only  from  time  to  time  sending  out  mo- 
notonous admonitions  from  within  doors  that  the  sea- 
son was  consecrated,  and  that  Caesar's  acts  had  no  validity. 
Still  more  remarkably,  and  as  the  distinguishing  feature 
of  his  term  of  ofBce,  Caesar  carried,  with  the  help  of  the 
people,  the  body  of  admirable  laws  which  are  known  to 
jurists  as  the  ''  Leges  Juliae,"  and  mark  an  epoch  in  Roman 
history.  They  were  laws  as  unwelcome  to  the  aristocracy 
as  they  were  essential  to  the  continued  existence  of  the 
Roman  State,  laws  which  had  been  talked  of  in  the  Senate, 
but  which  could  never  pass  through  the  preliminary  stage 
of  resolutions,  and  were  now  enacted  over  the  Senate's 
head  by  the  will  of  Caesar  and  the  sovereign  power  of  the 
nation.  A  mere  outline  can  alone  be  attempted  here. 
There  was  a  law  declaring  the  inviolability  of  the  persons 
of  magistrates  during  their  term  of  authority,  reflecting 
back  on  the  murder  of  Saturninus,  and  touching  by  impli- 
cation the  killing  of  Lentulus  and  his  companions.  There 
was  a  law  for  the  punishment  of  adultery,  most  disinter- 
estedly singular  if  the  popular  accounts  of  Caesar's  habits 
had  any  grain  of  truth  in  them.  There  were  laws  for  the 
protection  of  the  subject  from  violence,  public  or  private; 
and  laws  disabling  persons  who  had  laid  hands  illegally  on 
Roman  citizens  from  holding  office  in  the  Commonwealth. 
There  was  a  law,  intended  at  last  to  be  effective,  to  deal 
with  judges  who  allowed  themselves  to  be  bribed.  There 
were  laws  against  defrauders  of  the  revenue;  laws  against 
debasing  the  coin;  laws  against  sacrilege;  laws  against  cor- 


B.  c.  59]  THE  "  LEGES  JULIiE  "  161 

rupt  State  contracts;  laws  against  bribery  at  elections. 
Finally,  there  was  a  law,  carefully  framed,  De  repetundis, 
to  exact  retribution  from  proconsuls,  or  propraetors  of 
the  type  of  Verres  who  had  plundered  the  provinces.  All 
governors  were  required,  on  relinquishing  office,  to  make 
a  double  return  of  their  accounts,  one  to  remain  for  in- 
spection among  the  archives  of  the  province,  and  one  to 
be  sent  to  Rome;  and  where  peculation  ©r  injustice  could 
be  proved  the  offender's  estate  was  made  answerable  to 
the  last  sesterce.^ 

Such  laws  were  words  only  without  the  will  to  execute 
them;  but  they  affirmed  the  principles  on  which  Roman 
or  any  other  society  could  alone  continue.  It  was  for  the 
officials  of  the  constitution  to  adopt  them,  and  save  them- 
selves and  the  Republic,  or  to  ignore  them  as  they  had  ig- 
nored the  laws  which  already  existed,  and  see  it  perish  as 
it  deserved.  All  that  man  could  do  for  the  preservation 
of  his  country  from  revolution  Caesar  had  accomplished. 
Sylla  had  re-established  the  rule  of  the  aristocracy,  and  it 
had  failed  grossly  and  disgracefully.  Cinna  and  Marius 
had  tried  democracy,  and  that  had  failed.  Caesar  was  try- 
ing what  law  would  do,  and  the  result  remained  to  be  seen. 
Bibulus,  as  each  measure  was  passed,  croaked  that  it  was 
null  and  void.  The  leaders  of  the  Senate  threatened  be- 
tween their  teeth  that  all  should  be  undone  when  Caesar's 
term  was  over.  Cato,  when  he  mentioned  the  "  Leges 
Juliae,"  spoke  of  them  as  enactments,  but  refused  them 
their  author's  name.  But  the  excellence  of  these  laws  was 
so  clearly  recognised  that  they  survived  the  irregularity 
of  their  introduction;  and  the  "  Lex  de  Repetundis  "  es- 
pecially remained  a  terror  to  evil-doers,  with  a  promise  of 
better  days  to  the  miserable  and  pillaged  subjects  of  the 
Roman  Empire. 

So  the  year  of  Caesar's  consulship  passed  away.  What 
was  to  happen  when  it  had  expired?  The  Senate  had 
provided  ''  the  woods  and  forests  "  for  him.  But  the  Sen- 
ate's provision  in  such  a  matter  could  not  be  expected  to 
hold.  He  asked  for  nothing,  but  he  was  known  to  desire 
II 


l62  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  59 

an  opportunity  of  distinguished  service.  Caesar  was  now 
forty-three.  His  Hfe  was  ebbing  away,  and,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  his  two  years  in  Spain,  it  had  been  spent  in  strug- 
ghng  with  the  base  elements  of  Roman  faction.  Great 
men  will  bear  such  sordid  work  when  it  is  laid  on  them, 
but  they  loathe  it  notwithstanding,  and  for  the  present 
there  was  nothing  more  to  be  done.  A  new  point  of  de- 
parture had  been  taken.  Principles  had  been  laid  down 
for  the  Senate  and  people  to  act  on,  if  they  could  and 
would.  Caesar  could  only  wish  for  a  long  absence  in  some 
new  sphere  of  usefulness,  where  he  could  achieve  some- 
thing really  great  which  his  country  would  remember. 

And  on  one  side  only  was  such  a  sphere  open  to  him. 
The  East  was  Roman  to  the  Euphrates.  No  second  Mith- 
ridates  could  loosen  the  grasp  with  which  the  legions  now 
held  the  civilized  parts  of  Asia.  Parthians  might  disturb 
the  frontier,  but  could  not  seriously  threaten  the  Eastern 
dominions;  and  no  advantage  was  promised  by  following 
on  the  steps  of  Alexander,  and  annexing  countries  too 
poor  to  bear  the  cost  of  their  maintenance.  To  the  west 
it  was  different.  Beyond  the  Alps  there  was  still  a  territory 
of  unknown  extent,  stretching  away  to  the  undefined 
ocean,  a  territory  peopled  with  warlike  races,  some  of 
whom  in  ages  long  past  had  swept  over  Italy  and  taken 
Rome,  and  had  left  their  descendants  and  their  name  in 
the  northern  province,  which  was  now  called  Cisalpine 
Gaul.  With  these  races  the  Romans  had  as  yet  no  clear 
relations,  and  from  them  alone  could  any  serious  danger 
threaten  the  State.  The  Gauls  had  for  some  centuries 
ceased  their  wanderings,  had  settled  down  in  fixed  local- 
ities. They  had  built  towns  and  bridges;  they  had  culti- 
vated the  soil,  and  had  become  wealthy  and  partly  civilized. 
With  the  tribes  adjoining  Provence  the  Romans  had  alli- 
ances more  or  less  precarious,  and  had  estabHshed  a  kind 
of  protectorate  over  them.  But  even  here  the  inhabitants 
were  uneasy  for  their  independence,  and  troubles  were  con- 
tinually arising  with  them;  while  into  these  districts  and 
into  the  rest  of  Gaul  a  fresh  and  stormy  element  was  now 


B.  c.  59]  CONDITION  OF  GAUL  163 

being  introduced.  In  earlier  times  the  Gauls  had  been 
stronger  than  the  Germans,  and  not  only  could  they  pro- 
tect their  own  frontier,  but  they  had  formed  settlements 
beyond  the  Rhine.  These  relations  were  being  changed. 
The  Gauls,  as  they  grew  in  wealth,  declined  in  vigour.  The 
Germans,  still  roving  and  migratory,  were  throwing  cov- 
etous eyes  out  of  their  forests  on  the  fields  and  vineyards 
of  their  neighbours,  and  enormous  numbers  of  them  were 
crossing  the  Rhine  and  Danube,  looking  for  new  homes. 
How  feeble  a  barrier  either  the  Alps,  or  the  Gauls  them- 
selves, might  prove  against  such  invaders,  had  been  but 
too  recently  experienced.  Men  who  were  of  middle  age 
at  the  time  of  Caesar's  consulship,  could  still  remember  the 
terrors  which  had  been  caused  by  the  invasion  of  the 
Cimbri  and  Teutons.  Marius  had  saved  Italy  then  from 
destruction,  as  it  were,  by  the  hair  of  his  head.  The  an- 
nihilation of  those  hordes  had  given  Rome  a  passing  re- 
spite. But  fresh  generations  had  grown  up.  Fresh 
multitudes  were  streaming  out  of  the  North.  Germans  in 
hundreds  of  thousands  were  again  passing  the  Upper 
Rhine,  rooting  themselves  in  Burgundy,  and  coming  in 
collision  with  tribes  which  Rome  protected.  There  were 
uneasy  movements  among  the  Gauls  themselves,  whole 
nations  of  them  breaking  up  from  their  homes  and  again 
adrift  upon  the  world.  Gaul  and  Germany  were  like  a 
volcano  giving  signs  of  approaching  eruption;  and,  at  any 
moment  and  hardly  with  warning,  another  lava  stream 
might  be  pouring  down  into  Venetia  and  Lombardy. 

To  deal  with  this  danger  was  the  work  marked  out  for 
Caesar.  It  is  the  fashion  to  say  that  he  sought  a  military 
command  that  he  might  have  an  army  behind  him  to  over- 
throw the  constitution.  If  this  was  his  object,  ambition 
never  chose  a  more  dangerous  or  less  promising  route  for 
himself.  Men  of  genius  who  accomplish  great  things  in 
this  world  do  not  trouble  themselves  with  remote  and 
visionary  aims.  They  encounter  emergencies  as  they  rise, 
and  leave  the  future  to  shape  itself  as  it  may.  It  would 
seem  that  at  first  the  defence  of  Italy  was  all  that  was 


1 64  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  58 

thought  of.  "  The  woods  and  forests  "  were  set  aside,  and 
Caesar,  by  a  vote  of  the  people,  was  given  the  command  of 
Cisalpine  Gaul  and  Illyria  for  five  years;  but  either  he  him- 
self desired,  or  especial  circumstances  which  were  taking 
place  beyond  the  mountains  recommended,  that  a  wider 
scope  should  be  allowed  him.  The  Senate,  finding  that 
the  people  would  act  without  them  if  they  hesitated,  gave 
him  in  addition  Gallia  Comata,  the  land  of  the  Gauls  with 
the  long  hair,  the  governorship  of  the  Roman  provinces 
beyond  the  Alps,  with  untrammelled  liberty  to  act  as  he 
might  think  good,  throughout  the  country  which  is  now 
known  as  France  and  Switzerland  and  the  Rhine  provinces 
of  Germany. 

He  was  to  start  early  in  the  approaching  year.  It  was 
necessary  before  he  went  to  make  some  provision  for  the 
quiet  government  of  the  capital.  The  alliance  with  Pom- 
pey  and  Crassus  gave  temporary  security.  Pompey  had 
less  stability  of  character  than  could  have  been  wished, 
but  he  became  attached  to  Caesar's  daughter  Julia;  and  a 
fresh  link  of  marriage  was  formed  to  hold  them  together. 
Caesar  himself  married  Calpurnia,  the  daughter  of  Calpur- 
nius  Piso.  The  Senate  having  temporarily  abdicated,  he 
was  able  to  guide  the  elections;  and  Piso,  and  Pompey's 
friend  Gabinius,  who  had  obtained  the  command  of  the 
pirate  war  for  him,  were  chosen  consuls  for  the  year  58. 
Neither  of  them,  if  we  can  believe  a  tithe  of  Cicero's  invec- 
tive, was  good  for  much;  but  they  were  staunch  partisans 
and  were  to  be  relied  on  to  resist  any  efforts  which  might 
be  made  to  repeal  the  "  Leges  Juliae."  These  matters 
being  arranged,  and  his  own  term  having  expired,  Caesar 
withdrew,  according  to  custom,  to  the  suburbs  beyond  the 
walls  to  collect  troops  and  prepare  for  his  departure. 
Strange  things,  however,  had  yet  to  happen  before  he  was 
gone. 

It  is  easy  to  conceive  how  the  Senate  felt  at  these  trans- 
actions, how  ill  they  bore  to  find  themselves  superseded, 
and  the  State  managed  over  their  heads.  Fashionable 
society  was  equally  furious,  and  the  three  allies  went  by 


B.  c.  58]  CICERO'S  GRIEVANCES  165 

the  name  of  Dynasts,  or  "  Reges  Superbi/*  After  resist- 
ance had  been  abandoned,  Cicero  came  back  to  Rome  to 
make  cynical  remarks  from  which  all  parties  suffered 
equally.  His  special  grievance  was  the  want  of  considera- 
tion which  he  conceived  to  have  been  shown  for  himself. 
He  mocked  at  the  Senate;  he  mocked  at  Bibulus,  whom 
he  particularly  abominated;  he  mocked  at  Pompey  and  the 
Agrarian  law.  Mockery  turned  to  indignation  when  he 
thought  of  the  ingratitude  of  the  Senate,  and  his  chief  con- 
solation in  their  discomfiture  was  that  it  had  fallen  on  them 
through  the  neglect  of  their  most  distinguished  member. 
"  I  could  have  saved  them,  if  they  would  have  let  me,"  he 
said.  "  I  could  save  them  still,  if  I  were  to  try;  but  I  will 
go  study  philosophy  in  my  own  family."  ^  "  Freedom  is 
gone,"  he  wrote  to  Atticus;  ''and  if  we  are  to  be  worse 
enslaved,  we  shall  bear  it.  Our  lives  and  properties  are 
more  to  us  than  liberty.  We  sigh,  and  we  do  not  even 
remonstrate."  * 

Cato,  in  the  desperation  of  passion,  called  Pompey  a  Dic- 
tator in  the  assembly,  and  barely  escaped  being  killed  for 
his  pains.*  The  patricians  revenged  themselves  in  private 
by  savage  speeches  and  plots  and  purposes.  Fashionable 
society  gathered  in  the  theatres,  and  hissed  the  popular 
leaders.  Lines  were  introduced  into  the  plays  reflecting 
on  Pompey,  and  were  encored  a  thousand  times.  Bibulus 
from  his  closet  continued  to  issue  venomous  placards,  re- 
porting scandals  about  Caesar's  life,  and  now  for  the  first 
time  bringing  up  the  story  of  Nicomedes.  The  streets 
were  impassable  where  these  papers  were  pasted  up,  from 
the  crowds  of  loungers  which  were  gathered  to  read  them, 
and  Bibulus  for  the  moment  was  the  hero  of  patrician 
saloons.  Some  malicious  comfort  Cicero  gathered  out  of 
these  manifestations  of  feeling.  He  had  no  belief  in  the 
noble  lords,  and  small  expectations  from  them.  Bibulus 
was,  on  the  whole,  a  fit  representative  for  the  gentry  of  the 
fish-ponds.  But  the  Dynasts  were  at  least  heartily  de- 
tested in  quarters  which  had  once  been  powerful,  and 
might  be  powerful  again ;  and  he  flattered  himself,  though 


l66  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  58 

he  affected  to  regret  it,  that  the  animosity  against  them 
was  spreading.  To  all  parties  there  is  attached  a  draggled 
trail  of  disreputables,  who  hold  themselves  entitled  to  bene- 
fits when  their  side  is  in  power,  and  are  angry  when  they 
are  passed  over. 

''  The  State,"  Cicero  wrote  in  the  autumn  of  59  to  At- 
ticus,  "  is  in  a  worse  condition  than  when  you  left  us;  then 
we  thought  that  we  had  fallen  under  a  power  which 
pleased  the  people,  and  which,  though  abhorrent  to  the 
good,  yet  was  not  totally  destructive  to  them.  Now  all 
hate  it  equally,  and  we  are  in  terror  as  to  where  the 
exasperation  may  break  out.  We  had  experienced 
the  ill-temper  and  irritation  of  those  who  in  their 
anger  with  Cato  had  brought  ruin  on  us;  but  the 
poison  worked  so  slowly  that  it  seemed  we  might  die 
without  pain. — I  hoped,  as  I  often  told  you,  that  the 
wheel  of  the  constitution  was  so  turning  that  we 
should  scarcely  hear  a  sound  or  see  any  visible  track;  and 
so  it  would  have  been,  could  men  have  waited  for  the 
tempest  to  pass  over  them.  But  the  secret  sighs  turned 
to  groans,  and  the  groans  to  universal  clamour;  and 
thus  our  friend  Pompey,  who  so  lately  swam  in  glory,  and 
never  heard  an  evil  word  of  himself,  is  broken-hearted, 
and  knows  not  whither  to  turn.  A  precipice  is  before  him, 
and  to  retreat  is  dangerous.  The  good  are  against  him — 
the  bad  are  not  his  friends.  I  could  scarce  help  weeping 
the  other  day  when  I  heard  him  complaining  in  the  Forum 
of  the  publications  of  Bibulus.  He  who  but  a  short  time 
since  bore  himself  so  proudly  there,  with  the  people  in 
raptures  with  him,  and  with  the  world  on  his  side,  was  now 
so  humble  and  abject  as  to  disgust  even  himself,  not  to  say 
his  hearers.  Crassus  enjoyed  the  scene,  but  no  one  else. 
Pompey  had  fallen  down  out  of  the  stars — not  by  a  grad- 
ual descent,  but  in  a  single  plunge;  and  as  Apelles  if  he  had 
seen  his  Venus,  or  Protogenes  his  lalysus,  all  daubed  with 
mud,  would  have  been  vexed  and  annoyed,  so  was  I 
grieved  to  the  very  heart  to  see  one  whom  I  had  painted 
out  in  the  choicest  colours  of  art  thus  suddenly  defaced.^ 


B.  c.  58]  ROMAN   FACTIONS  1 6/ 

— Pompey  is  sick  with  irritation  at  the  placards  of  Bibu- 
lus.  I  am  sorry  about  them.  They  give  such  excessive 
annoyance  to  a  man  whom  I  have  always  liked;  and  Pom- 
pey is  so  prompt  with  his  sword,  and  so  unaccustomed  to 
insult,  that  I  fear  what  he  may  do.  What  the  future  may 
have  in  store  for  Bibulus  I  know  not.  At  present  he  is  the 
admired  of  all."  * 

"  Sampsiceramus,"  Cicero  wrote  a  few  days  later,  ''  is 
greatly  penitent.  He  would  gladly  be  restored  to  the  emi- 
nence from  which  he  has  fallen.  Sometimes  he  imparts 
his  griefs  to  me,  and  asks  me  what  he  should  do,  which  I 
cannot  tell  him."  ^ 

Unfortunate  Cicero,  who  knew  what  was  right,  but  was 
too  proud  to  do  it!  Unfortunate  Pompey,  who  still  did 
what  was  right,  but  was  too  sensitive  to  bear  the  reproach 
of  it,  who  would  so  gladly  not  leave  his  duty  unperformed, 
and  yet  keep  the  "  sweet  voices  "  whose  applause  had 
grown  so  delicious  to  him!  Bibulus  was  in  no  danger. 
Pompey  was  too  good-natured  to  hurt  him ;  and  Caesar  let 
fools  say  what  they  pleased,  as  long  as  they  were  fools 
without  teeth,  who  would  bark  but  could  not  bite.  The 
risk  was  to  Cicero  himself,  little  as  he  seemed  to  be  aware 
of  it.  Caesar  was  to  be  long  absent  from  Rome,  and  he 
knew  that  as  soon  as  he  was  engaged  in  Gaul  the  extreme 
oligarchic  faction  would  make  an  effort  to  set  aside  his 
Land  commission  and  undo  his  legislation.  When  he  had 
a  clear  purpose  in  view,  and  was  satisfied  that  it  was  a  good 
purpose,  he  was  never  scrupulous  about  his  instruments. 
It  was  said  of  him  that,  when  he  wanted  any  work  done, 
he  chose  the  persons  best  able  to  do  it,  let  their  general 
character  be  what  it  might.  The  rank  and  file  of  the  pa- 
tricians, proud,  idle,  vicious,  and  self-indulgent,  might  be 
left  to  their  mistresses  and  their  gaming  tables.  They 
could  do  no  mischief,  unless  they  had  leaders  at  their  head, 
who  could  use  their  resources  more  effectively  than  they 
could  do  themselves.  There  were  two  men  only  in  Rome 
with  whose  help  they  could  be  really  dangerous — Cato, 
because  he  was  a  fanatic,  impregnable  to  argument,  and 


l68  JULIUS   C^SAR  [B.  c.  58 

not  to  be  influenced  by  temptation  of  advantage  to  himself; 
Cicero,  on  account  of  his  extreme  ability,  his  personal  am- 
bition, and  his  total  want  of  political  principle.  Cato  he 
knew  to  be  impracticable.  Cicero  he  had  tried  to  gain; 
but  Cicero,  who  had  played  a  first  part  as  consul,  could 
not  bring  himself  to  play  a  second,  and,  if  the  chance 
offered,  had  both  power  and  will  to  be  troublesome. 
Some  means  had  to  be  found  to  get  rid  of  these  two,  or  at 
least  to  tie  their  hands  and  so  keep  them  in  order.  There 
would  be  Pompey  and  Crassus  still  at  hand.  But  Pom- 
pey  was  weak,  and  Crassus  understood  nothing  beyond 
the  art  of  manipulating  money.  Gabinius  and  Piso,  the 
next  consuls,  had  an  indifferent  reputation  and  narrow 
abilities,  and  at  best  they  would  have  but  their  one  year  of 
authority.  Politics,  like  love,  make  strange  bedfellows. 
In  this  difficulty  accident  threw  in  Caesar's  way  a  conven- 
ient but  most  unexpected  ally. 

Young  Clodius,  after  his  escape  from  prosecution  by 
the  marvellous  methods  which  Crassus  had  provided  for 
him,  was  more  popular  than  ever.  He  had  been  the  oc- 
casion of  a  scandal  which  had  brought  infamy  on  the  de- 
tested Senate.  His  offence  in  itself  seemed  slight  in  so 
loose  an  age  and  was  as  nothing  compared  with  the  enor- 
mity of  his  judges.  He  had  come  out  of  his  trial  with  a 
determination  to  be  revenged  on  the  persons  from  whose 
tongues  he  had  suffered  most  severely  in  the  senatorial  de- 
bates. Of  these  Cato  had  been  the  most  savage;  but 
Cicero  had  been  the  most  exasperating,  from  his  sarcasms, 
his  airs  of  patronage,  and  perhaps  his  intimacy  with  his 
sister.  The  noble  youth  had  exhausted  the  common  forms 
of  pleasure.  He  wanted  a  new  excitement,  and  politics 
and  vengeance  might  be  combined.  He  was  as  clever  as 
he  was  dissolute,  and,  as  clever  men  are  fortunately  rare  in 
the  licentious  part  of  society,  they  are  always  idolized,  be- 
cause they  make  vice  respectable  by  connecting  it  with  in- 
tellect. Clodius  was  a  second,  an  abler  Catiline,  equally 
unprincipled  and  far  more  dexterous  and  prudent.  In 
times  of  revolution  there  is  always  a  disreputable  wing  to 


B.  c.  58]  CLODIUS  169 

the  radical  party,  composed  of  men  who  are  the  natural 
enemies  of  established  authority,  and  these  all  rallied  about 
their  new  leader  with  devout  enthusiasm.  Clodius  was 
not  without  political  experience.  His  first  public  appear- 
ance had  been  made  as  leader  of  a  mutiny.  He  was 
already  quaestor,  and  so  a  Senator;  but  he  was  too  young 
to  aspire  to  the  higher  magistracies  which  were  open  to 
him  as  a  patrician.  He  declared  his  intention  of  renounc- 
ing his  order,  becoming  a  plebeian,  and  standing  for  the 
tribuneship  of  the  people.  There  were  precedents  for 
such  a  step,  but  they  were  rare.  The  abdicating  noble  had 
to  be  adopted  into  a  plebeian  family,  and  the  consent  was 
required  of  the  consuls  and  of  the  Pontifical  College. 
With  the  growth  of  political  equality  the  aristocracy  had 
become  more  insistent  upon  the  privilege  of  birth,  which 
could  not  be  taken  from  them;  and  for  a  Claudius  to  de- 
scend among  the  canaille  was  as  if  a  Howard  were  to  seek 
adoption  from  a  shopkeeper  in  the  Strand. 

At  first  there  was  universal  amazement.  Cicero  had 
used  the  intrigue  with  Pompeia  as  a  text  for  a  sermon  on 
the  immoralities  of  the  age.  The  aspirations  of  Clodius 
to  be  a  tribune  he  ridiculed  as  an  illustration  of  its  follies, 
and  after  scourging  him  in  the  Senate,  he  laughed  at  him 
and  jested  with  him  in  private.^  Cicero  did  not  under- 
stand with  how  venomous  a  snake  he  was  playing.  He 
even  thought  Clodius  likely  to  turn  against  the  Dynasts, 
and  to  become  a  serviceable  member  of  the  conservative 
party.  Gradually  he  was  forced  to  open  his  eyes. 
Speeches  were  reported  to  him  as  coming  from  Clodius  or 
his  allies  threatening  an  inquiry  into  the  death  of  the  Cati- 
linarians.  At  first  he  pushed  his  alarms  aside,  as  unworthy 
of  him.  What  had  so  great  a  man  as  he  to  fear  from  a 
young  reprobate  like  "  the  pretty  boy"  ?  The  "  pretty 
boy,"  however,  found  favour  where  it  was  least  looked  for. 
Caesar,  though  it  was  Caesar's  house  which  he  had  violated, 
did  not  oppose.  Bibulus  refused  consent,  but  Bibulus 
had  virtually  abdicated  and  went  for  nothing.  The  legal 
forms  were  complied  with.     Clodius  found  a  commoner 


I^O  JULIUS   CESAR  [b.  c.  58 

younger  than  himself  who  was  wiUing  to  adopt  him,  and 
who,  the  day  after  the  ceremony,  released  him  from  the 
new  paternal  authority.  He  was  now  a  plebeian,  and  free. 
He  remained  a  senator  in  virtue  of  his  qusestorship,  and  he 
was  chosen  tribune  of  the  people  for  the  year  58. 

Cicero  was  at  last  startled  out  of  his  security.  So  long 
as  the  consuls,  or  one  of  them,  could  be  depended  on,  a 
tribune's  power  was  insignificant.  When  the  consuls  were 
of  his  own  way  of  thinking,  a  tribune  was  a  very  impor- 
tant personage  indeed.  Atticus  was  alarmed  for  his 
friend,  and  cautioned  him  to  look  to  himself.  Warnings 
came  from  all  quarters  that  mischief  was  in  the  wind.  Still 
it  was  impossible  to  believe  the  peril  to  be  a  real  one.  Cic- 
ero, to  whom  Rome  owed  its  existence,  to  be  struck  at 
by  a  Clodius!  It  could  not  be.  As  little  could  a  wasp 
hurt  an  elephant. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  Caesar  knew  what  Clodius 
had  in  his  mind;  or  that,  if  the  design  was  not  his  own,  he 
had  purposely  allowed  it  to  go  forward.  Caesar  did  not 
wish  to  hurt  Cicero.  He  wished  well  to  him,  and  admired 
him;  but  he  did  not  mean  to  leave  him  free  in  Rome  to 
lead  a  senatorial  reaction.  A  prosecution  for  the  execu- 
tion of  the  prisoners  was  now  distinctly  announced.  Cic- 
ero as  consul  had  put  to  death  Roman  citizens  without  a 
trial.  Cicero  was  to  be  called  to  answer  for  the  illegality 
before  the  sovereign  people.  The  danger  was  unmistak- 
able; and  Caesar,  who  was  still  in^he  suburbs  making  his 
preparations,  invited  Cicero  to  avoid  it,  by  accompanying 
him  as  second  in  command  into  Gaul.  The  offer  was 
made  in  unquestionable  sincerity.  Caesar  may  himself 
have  created  the  situation  to  lay  Cicero  under  a  pressure, 
but  he  desired  nothing  so  much  as  to  take  him  as  his  com- 
panion, and  to  attach  him  to  himself.  Cicero  felt  the  com- 
pliment and  hesitated  to  refuse,  but  his  pride  again  came  in 
his  way.  Pompey  assured  him  that  not  a  hair  of  his  head 
should  be  touched.  Why  Pompey  gave  him  this  encour- 
agement, Cicero  could  never  afterwards  understand.  The 
scenes  in  the  theatres  had  also  combined  to  mislead  him, 


B.  c.  58]  PROSECUTION    OF   CICERO  171 

and  he  misread  the  disposition  of  the  great  body  of  citi- 
zens. He  imagined  that  they  would  all  start  up  in  his 
defence,  Senate,  aristocracy,  knights,  commoners,  and 
tradesmen.  The  world,  he  thought,  looked  back  upon  his 
consulship  with  as  much  admiration  as  he  did  himself,  and 
was  always  contrasting  him  with  his  successors.  Never 
was  mistake  more  profound.  The  Senate,  who  had  envied 
his  talents  and  resented  his  assumption,  now  despised  him 
as  a  trimmer.  His  sarcasms  had  made  him  enemies  among 
those  who  acted  with  him  politically.  He  had  held  aloof 
at  the  crisis  of  Caesar's  election  and  in  the  debates  which 
followed,  and  therefore  all  sides  distrusted  him;  while 
throughout  the  body  of  the  people  there  was,  as  Caesar  had 
foretold,  a  real  and  sustained  resentment  at  the  conduct  of 
the  Catiline  affair.  The  final  opinion  of  Rome  was  that 
the  prisoners  ought  to  have  been  tried;  and  that  they  were 
not  tried  was  attributed  not  unnaturally  to  a  desire,  on  the 
part  of  the  Senate,  to  silence  an  inquiry  which  might  have 
proved  inconvenient. 

Thus  suddenly  out  of  a  clear  sky  the  thunder-clouds 
gathered  over  Cicero's  head.  "  Clodius,"  says  Dion 
Cassius,  "  had  discovered  that  among  the  senators  Cicero 
was  more  feared  than  loved.  There  were  few  of  them  who 
had  not  been  hit  by  his  irony,  or  irritated  by  his  presump- 
tion." Those  who  most  agreed  in  what  he  had  done  were 
not  ashamed  to  shuffle  off  upon  him  their  responsibilities. 
Clodius,  now  omnipotent  with  the  assembly  at  his  back, 
cleared  the  way  by  a  really  useful  step;  he  carried  a  law 
abolishing  the  impious  form  of  declaring  the  heavens  un- 
favourable when  an  inconvenient  measure  was  to  be  stopped 
or  delayed.  Probably  it  formed  a  part  of  his  engagement 
with  Caesar.  The  law  may  have  been  meant  to  act  retro- 
spectively, to  prevent  a  question  being  raised  on  the  inter- 
pellations of  Bibulus.  This  done,  and  without  paying  the 
Senate  the  respect  of  first  consulting  it,  he  gave  notice  that 
he  would  propose  a  vote  to  the  assembly,  to  the  effect  that 
any  person  who  had  put  to  death  a  Roman  citizen  without 
trial,  and  without  allowing  him  an  appeal  to  the  people. 


172  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  58 

had  violated  the  constitution  of  the  State.  Cicero  was 
not  named  directly;  every  senator  who  had  voted  for 
the  execution  of  Cethegus  and  Lentulus  and  their  compan- 
ions was  as  guilty  as  he;  but  it  was  known  immediately 
that  Cicero  was  the  mark  that  was  being  aimed  at;  and 
Caesar  at  once  renewed  the  offer,  which  he  made  before,  to 
take  Cicero  with  him.  Cicero,  now  frightened  in  earnest, 
still  could  not  bring  himself  to  owe  his  escape  to  Caesar. 
The  Senate,  ungrateful  as  they  had  been,  put  on  mourning 
with  an  affectation  of  dismay.  The  knights  petitioned 
the  consuls  to  interfere  for  Cicero's  protection.  The  con- 
suls declined  to  receive  their  request.  Caesar  outside  the 
city  gave  no  further  sign.  A  meeting  of  the  citizens  was 
held  in  the  camp.  Caesar's  opinion  was  invited.  He  said 
that  he  had  not  changed  his  sentiments.  He  had  remon- 
strated at  the  time  against  the  execution.  He  disapproved 
of  it  still,  but  he  did  not  directly  advise  legislation  upon 
acts  that  were  passed.  Yet  though  he  did  not  encourage 
Clodius,  he  did  not  interfere.  He  left  the  matter  to  the 
consuls,  and  one  of  them  was  his  own  father-in-law,  and 
the  other  was  Gabinus,  once  Pompey's  favourite  officer. 
Gabinius,  Cicero  thought,  would  respect  Pompey's  promise 
to  him.  To  Piso  he  made  a  personal  appeal.  He  found 
him,  he  said  afterwards,^  at  eleven  in  the  morning,  in  his 
slippers,  at  a  low  tavern.  Piso  came  out,  reeking  with 
wine,  and  excused  himself  by  saying  that  his  health  re- 
quired a  morning  draught.  Cicero  attempted  to  receive 
his  apology;  and  he  stood  for  a  while  at  the  tavern  door, 
till  he  could  no  longer  bear  the  smell  and  the  foul  language 
and  expectorations  of  the  consul.  Hope  in  that  quarter 
there  was  none.  Two  days  later  the  assembly  was  called 
to  consider  Clodius's  proposal.  Piso  was  asked  to  say 
what  he  thought  of  the  treatment  of  the  conspirators;  he 
answered  gravely,  and,  as  Cicero  described  him,  with  one 
eye  in  his  forehead,  that  he  disapproved  of  cruelty. 
Neither  Pompey  nor  his  friends  came  to  help.  What  was 
Cicero  to  do?  Resist  by  force?  The  young  knights 
rallied  about  him  eager  for  a  fight,  if  he  would  but  give 


B.  c.  58]  PROSECUTION  OF   CICERO  173 

the  word.  Sometimes  as  he  looked  back  in  after  years  he 
blamed  himself  for  declining  their  services,  sometimes  he 
took  credit  to  himself  for  refusing  to  be  the  occasion  of 
bloodshed/' 

"  I  was  too  timid,"  he  said  once;  ''  I  had  the  country 
with  me,  and  I  should  have  stood  firm.  I  had  to  do  with 
a  band  of  villains  only,  with  two  monsters  of  consuls,  and 
with  the  male  harlot  of  rich  buffoons,  the  seducer  of  his 
sister,  and  the  high  priest  of  adultery,  a  poisoner,  a  forger, 
an  assassin,  a  thief.  The  best  and  bravest  citizens  im- 
plored me  to  stand  up  to  him.  But  I  reflected  that  this 
Fury  asserted  that  he  was  supported  by  Pompey  and 
Crassus  and  Caesar.  Caesar  had  an  army  at  the  gates. 
The  other  two  could  raise  another  army  when  they  pleased; 
and  when  they  knew  that  their  names  were  thus  made  use 
of,  they  remained  silent.  They  were  alarmed  perhaps, 
because  the  laws  which  they  had  carried  in  the  preceding 
year  were  challenged  by  the  new  praetors,  and  were  held 
by  the  Senate  to  be  invalid;  and  they  were  unwilling  to 
alienate  a  popular  tribune."  ^^ 

And  again  elsewhere:  "  When  I  saw  that  the  faction  of 
Catiline  was  in  power,  that  the  party  which  I  had  led, 
some  from  envy  of  myself,  some  from  fear  for  their  own 
lives,  had  betrayed  and  deserted  me;  when  the  two  consuls 
had  been  purchased  by  promises  of  provinces,  and  had 
gone  over  to  my  enemies,  and  the  condition  of  the  bargain 
was,  that  I  was  to  be  delivered  over,  tied  and  bound,  to 
my  enemies ;  when  the  Senate  and  knights  were  in  mourn- 
ing, but  were  not  allowed  to  bring  my  cause  before  the  peo- 
ple; when  my  blood,  had  been  made  the  seal  of  the  arrange- 
ment under  which  the  State  had  been  disposed  of;  when  I 
saw  all  this,  although  '  the  good '  were  ready  to  fight  for 
me,  and  were  willing  to  die  for  me,  I  would  not  consent, 
because  I  saw  that  victory  or  defeat  would  alike  bring 
ruin  to  the  Commonwealth.  The  Senate  was  powerless. 
The  Forum  was  ruled  by  violence.  In  such  a  city  there 
was  no  place  for  me."  ^^ 

So  Cicero,  as  he  looked  back  afterwards,  described  the 


174  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  58 

Struggle  in  his  own  mind.  His  friends  had  then  ralHed; 
Caesar  was  far  away;  and  he  could  tell  his  own  story,  and 
could  pile  his  invectives  on  those  who  had  injured  him. 
His  matchless  literary  power  has  given  him  exclusive  com- 
mand over  the  history  of  his  time.  His  enemies'  charac- 
ters have  been  accepted  from  his  pen  as  correct  portraits. 
If  we  allow  his  description  of  Clodius  and  the  two  consuls 
to  be  true  to  the  facts,  what  harder  condemnation  can  be 
pronounced  against  a  political  condition  in  which  such 
men  as  those  could  be  raised  to  the  first  position  in  the 
State?  ^^  Dion  says  that  Cicero's  resolution  to  yield  did 
not  wholly  proceed  from  his  own  prudence,  but  was  as- 
sisted by  advice  from  Cato  and  Hortensius  the  orator. 
Anyway,  the  blow  fell,  and  he  went  down  before  the  stroke. 
His  immortal  consulship,  in  praise  of  which  he  had  written 
a  poem,  brought  after  it  the  swift  retribution  which  Caesar 
had  foretold.  When  the  vote  proposed  by  Clodius  was 
carried,  he  fled  to  Sicily,  with  a  tacit  confession  that  he 
dared  not  abide  his  trial,  which  would  immediately  have 
followed.  Sentence  was  pronounced  upon  him  in  his  ab- 
sence. His  property  was  confiscated.  His  houses  in 
town  and  country  were  razed.  The  site  of  his  palace  in 
Rome  was  dedicated  to  the  Goddess  of  Liberty,  and  he 
himself  was  exiled.  He  was  forbidden  to  reside  within 
four  hundred  miles  of  Rome,  with  a  threat  of  death  if  he 
returned;  and  he  retired  to  Macedonia,  to  pour  out  his  sor- 
rows and  his  resentments  in  lamentations  unworthy  of  a 
woman. 


Notes 

'  Page  161.  See  a  list  of  the  "  Leges  Julise  "  in  the  48th  Book  of  the 
Corpus  Juris  Civilis. 

*Page  165.  To  Atticus,  ii.  16. 

3  Page  165.  "  Tenemur  undique,  neque  jam,  quo  minus  serviamus, 
recusamus,  sed  mortem  et  ejectionem  quasi  majora  timemus  qusemulto 
sunt  minora.  Atque  hie  status,  qui  una  voce  omnium  gemitur  neque 
verbo  cujusdam  sublevatur." — To  Atticus,  ii,  18. 

*  Page  165.  "  In  concionem  ascendit  et  Pompeium  privatus  Dictatorem 


B.  c.  58J  PROSECUTION    OF    CICERO  175 

appellavit,  Propius  nihil  est  factum  quam  ut  occideretur." — Cicero,  Ad 
Quintum  Fratrem,  i.  2. 

^Page  166.  To  Atticus,  ii.  21.  In  this  comparison  Cicero  betrays  his 
naive  conviction  that  Pompey  was  indebted  to  him  and  to  his  praises 
for  his  reputation.  Here,  as  always,  Cicero  was  himself  the  centre 
round  which  all  else  revolved  or  ought  to  revolve. 

« Page  167.  To  Atticus,  ii.  21. 

'  Page  167.  To  Atticus,  li.  22. 

8  Page  169.  "  Jam  familiariter  cum  illo  etiam  cavillor  ac  jocor." — To 
Atticus,  ii.  I. 

9  Page  172.  Oratio  in  L.  Pisonem. 

'"Page  173.  He  seems  to  have  even  thought  of  suicide. — To  Atticus, 
iii.  9. 

"  Page  173.  Abridged  from  the  Oratio  pro  P.  Sextio. 

^'  Page  173.  Oratio  post  reditum  ad  Quirites. 

13  Page  174.  In  a  letter  to  his  brother  Quintus,  written  at  a  time  when 
he  did  not  know  the  real  feelings  of  Caesar  and  Pompey,  and  had  sup- 
posed that  he  had  only  to  deal  with  Clodius,  Cicero  announced  a  dis- 
tinct intention  of  resisting  by  force.  He  expected  that  the  whole  of 
Italy  would  be  at  his  side.  He  said:  "Si  diem  nobis  Clodius  dixerit, 
tota  Italia  concurret,  ut  multiplicata  gloria  discedamus.  Sin  autem 
vi  agere  conabitur,  spero  fore,  studiis  non  solum  amicorum,  sed  etiam 
alienorum,  ut  vi  resistamus.  Omnes  et  se  et  suos  liberos,  amicos, 
clientes,  libertos,  servos,  pecunias  denique  suas  pollicentur.  Nostra 
antiqua  manus  bonorum  ardet  studio  nostri  atque  amore.  Si  qui  antea 
aut  alieniores  fuerant,  aut  languidiores,  nunc  horum  regum  odio  se 
cum  bonis  conjungunt.  Pompeius  omnia  pollicetur  et  Caesar,  de  quibus 
ita  credo,  ut  nihil  de  me§,  comparatione  deminuam." — Ad  Quintum 
Fratrem,  i.  2. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

FROM  the  fermentation  of  Roman  politics,  the  pas- 
sions of  the  Forum  and  Senate,  the  corrupt  tribu- 
nals, the  poisoned  centre  of  the  Empire,  the  story 
passes  beyond  the  frontier  of  Italy.  We  no  longer  depend 
for  our  account  of  Caesar  on  the  caricatures  of  rival  states- 
men. He  now  becomes  himself  our  guide.  We  see  him 
in  his  actions  and  in  the  picture  of  his  personal  character 
which  he  has  unconsciously  drawn.  Like  all  real  great 
men,  he  rarely  speaks  of  himself.  He  tells  us  little  or 
nothing  of  his  own  feelings  or  his  own  purposes.  Cicero 
never  forgets  his  individuality.  In  every  line  that  he 
wrote  Cicero  was  attitudinizing  for  posterity,  or  reflecting 
on  the  effect  of  his  conduct  upon  his  interests  or  his  repu- 
tation. Caesar  is  lost  in  his  work;  his  personality  is  scarcely 
more  visible  than  Shakespeare's.  He  was  now  forty- 
three  years  old.  His  abstemious  habits  had  left  his  health 
unshaken.  He  was  in  the  fullest  vigour  of  mind  and  body, 
and  it  was  well  for  him  that  his  strength  had  not  been 
undermined.  He  was  going  on  an  expedition  which  would 
make  extraordinary  demands  upon  his  energies.  That  he 
had  not  contemplated  operations  so  extended  as  those 
which  were  forced  upon  him  is  evident  from  the  nature  of 
his  preparations.  His  command  in  Further  Gaul  had 
been  an  afterthought,  occasioned  probably  by  the  news 
which  had  been  received  of  movements  in  progress  there 
during  his  consulship.  Of  the  four  legions  which  were 
allowed  to  him,  one  only  was  beyond  the  Alps;  three  were 
at  Aquileia.  It  was  late  in  life  for  him  to  begin  the  trade 
of  a  soldier;  and  as  yet,  with  the  exception  of  his  early 
service  in  Asia,  and  a  brief  and  limited  campaign  in  Spain 
when  propraetor,  he  had  no  military  experience  at  all. 
His  ambition  hitherto  had  not  pointed  in  that  direction; 
nor  is  it  likely  that  a  person  of  so  strong  an  understanding 

176 


B.  c.  58]  ANCIENT  GAUL  1/7 

would  have  contemplated  beforehand  the  deliberate  under- 
taking of  the  gigantic  war  into  which  circumstances  im- 
mediately forced  him.  Yet  he  must  have  known  that  he 
had  to  deal  with  a  problem  of  growing  difficulty.  The 
danger  to  Italy  from  inroads  across  the  Alps  was  perpetu- 
ally before  the  minds  of  thoughtful  Roman  statesmen. 
Events  were  at  that  moment  taking  place  among  the  Gallic 
tribes  which  gave  point  to  the  general  uneasiness.  And, 
unwilling  as  the  Romans  were  to  extend  their  frontiers  and 
their  responsibilities  in  a  direction  so  unknown  and  so  un- 
promising, yet  some  interference  either  by  arms  or  by 
authority  beyond  those  existing  limits  was  being  pressed 
upon  them  in  self-defence.  '^— 

The  Transalpine  Gaul  of  Caesar  was  the  country  in- 
cluded between  the  Rhine,  the  ocean,  the  Pyrenees,  the 
Mediterranean,  and  the  Alps.  Within  these  limits,  in- 
cluding Switzerland,  there  was  at  this  time  a  population 
vaguely  estimated  at  six  or  seven  millions.  The  Roman 
Province  stretched  along  the  coast  to  the  Spanish  border; 
it  was  bounded  on  the  north  by  the  Cevennes  Mountains, 
and  for  some  generations  by  the  Isere;  but  it  had  been 
found  necessary  lately^  to  annex  the  territory  of  the  Allo- 
broges  (Dauphine  and  Savoy),  and  the  proconsular  author- 
ity was  now  extended  to  within  a  few  miles  of  Geneva. 
The  rest  was  divided  into  three  sections,  inhabited  by 
races  which,  if  allied,  were  distinctly  different  in  language, 
laws,  and  institutions.  The  Aquitani,  who  were  connected 
with  the  Spaniards  or  perhaps  the  Basques,  held  the 
country  between  the  Pyrenees  and  the  Garonne.  The 
Belgae,  whom  Caesar  believed  to  have  been  originally  Ger- 
mans, extended  from  the  mouth  of  the  Seine  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Rhine,  and  inland  to  the  Marne  and  Moselle.  The 
people  whom  the  Romans  meant  especially  when  they 
spoke  of  Gauls  occupied  all  the  remainder.  At  one  time 
the  Celts  had  probably  been  masters  of  the  whole  of 
France,  but  had  gradually  yielded  to  encroachment.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Druids,  they  came  out  of  darkness,  ab  Dite 
Patre;  they  called  themselves  Children  of  Night,  counting 
12 


178  JULIUS   CiESAR  [b.  c.  58 

time  by  nights,  instead  of  days,  as  we  say  fortnight  and 
se'nnight.  Comparison  of  language  has  taught  us  that 
they  were  a  branch  of  the  great  Aryan  race,  one  of  the 
first  which  rolled  westward  into  Europe,  before  Greeks  or 
Latins  had  been  heard  of. 

This  once  magnificent  people  was  now  in  a  state  of 
change  and  decomposition.     On  Aquitaine  and  Belgium 
Roman  civilization  had  as  yet  produced  no  effect.     The 
/severe  habits  of  earlier  generations  remained  unchanged. 
.The  Gauls  proper  had  yielded  to  contact  with  the  Province 
I  and  to  intercourse  with  Italian  traders.     They  had  built 
/  towns  and  villages.     They  had  covered  the  land  with  farms 
.  and    homesteads.      They   had   made   roads.     They    had 
'  bridged  their  rivers,  even  such  rivers  as  the  Rhone  and  the 
I  Loire.     They  had  amassed  wealth,  and  had  adopted  habits 
^  of  comparative  luxury,  which,  if  it  had  not  abated  their  dis- 
position to  fight,  had  diminished  their  capacity  for  fighting. 
Their  political  and  perhaps  their  spiritual  system  was  pass- 
ing   through    analogous    transformations.     The     ancient 
forms  remained,  but  an  altered  spirit  was  working  under 
them.     From  the  earliest  antiquity  they  had  been  divided 
into  tribes  and  subtribes:  each  tribe  and  subtribe  being 
practically  independent,  or  united  only  by  common  ob- 
jects and  a  common  sentiment  of  race.     The  rule  was  the 
rule  of  the  strong,  under  the  rudest  forms  of  tribal  organi- 
zation.    The  chief  was  either  hereditary  or  elected,  or  won 
his  command  by  his  sword.     The  mass  of  the  people  were 
serfs.     The  best  fighters  were  self-made  nobles,  under  the 
chiefs  authority.     Every  man  in  the  tribe  was  the  chief's 
absolute  subject;  the  chief,  in  turn,  was  bound  to  protect 
the  meanest  of  them  against  injury  from  without.     War, 
on  a  large  scale  or  a  small,  had  been  the  occupation  of  their 
lives.     The  son  was  not  admitted  into  his  father's  presence 
till  he  was  old  enough  to  be  a  soldier.     When  the  call  to 
arms  went  out,  every  man  of  the  required  age  was  expected 
at  the  muster,  and  the  last  comer  was  tortured  to  death  in 
the  presence  of  his  comrades  as  a  lesson  against  backward- 
ness. 


B.  C.  58]  THE  DRUIDS  179 

As  the  secular  side  of  things  bore  a  rude  resemblance 
to  feudalism,  so  on  the  religious  there  was  a  similar  antici- 
pation of  the  mediaeval  Catholic  Church.  The  Druids 
were  not  a  special  family,  like  the  Levites,  or  in  any  way 
born  into  the  priesthood.  They  were  an  order  composed 
of  persons  selected,  when  young,  out  of  the  higher  ranks 
of  the  community,  either  for  speciality  of  intellect,  or  from 
disposition,  or  by  the  will  of  their  parents,  or  from  a  desire 
to  avoid  military  service,  from  which  the  Druids  were  ex- 
empt. There  were  no  tribal  distinctions  among  them. 
Their  headquarters  were  in  Britain,  to  which  those  who 
aspired  to  initiation  in  the  more  profound  mysteries  re- 
paired for  instruction;  but  they  were  spread  universally 
over  Gaul  and  the  British  Islands.  They  were  the  minis- 
ters of  public  worship,  the  depositaries  of  knowledge,  and 
the  guardians  of  public  morality.  Young  men  repaired  to 
the  Druids  for  education.  They  taught  theology;  they 
taught  the  movements  of  the  stars.  They  presided  in  the 
civil  courts  and  determined  questions  of  disputed  inher- 
itance. They  heard  criminal  cases  and  delivered  judg- 
ment; and,  as  with  the  Church,  their  heaviest  and  most 
dreaded  punishment  was  excommunication.  The  excom- 
municated person  lost  his  civil  rights.  He  became  an  out- 
law from  society,  and  he  was  excluded  from  participation 
in  the  sacrifices.  In  the  religious  services  the  victims  most 
acceptable  to  the  gods  were  human  beings — criminals,  if 
such  could  be  had;  if  not,  then  innocent  persons,  who  were 
burnt  to  death  in  huge  towers  of  wicker.  In  the  Quema- 
dero  at  Seville,  as  in  our  own  Smithfield,  the  prisoners  of 
the  Church  were  fastened  to  stakes,  and  the  sticks  with 
which  they  were  consumed  were  tied  into  fagots,  instead 
of  being  plaited  into  basketwork.  So  slight  a  difference 
does  not  materially  affect  the  likeness. 

The  tribal  chieftainship  and  the  religious  organization  of 
the  Druids  were  both  of  them  inherited  from  antiquity. 
They  were  institutions  descending  from  the  time  when  the 
Gauls  had  been  a  great  people;  but  both  had  outlived  the 
age  to  which  they  were  adapted,  and  one  at  least  was  ap- 


l80  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  58 

preaching  its  end.  To  Caesar's  eye,  coming  new  upon 
them,  the  Druids  were  an  established  fact,  presenting  no 
sign  of  decay,  but  in  Gaul,  infected  with  Roman  manners, 
they  existed  merely  by  habit,  exercising  no  influence  any 
longer  over  the  hearts  of  the  people.  In  the  great  struggle 
which  was  approaching  we  find  no  Druids  among  the 
national  leaders,  no  spirit  of  religion  inspiring  and  conse- 
crating the  efforts  of  patriotism.  So  far  as  can  be  seen, 
the  Druids  were  on  the  Roman  side,  or  the  Romans  had 
the  skill  to  conciliate  them.  In  half  a  century  they  were 
suppressed  by  Augustus,  and  they  and  their  excommuni- 
cations, and  their  flaming  wicker  works,  had  to  be  sought 
for  in  distant  Britain,  or  in  the  still  more  distant  Ireland. 
The  active  and  secular  leadership  could  not  disappear  so 
easily.  Leaders  of  some  kind  were  still  required  and  in- 
evitably found,  but  the  method  of  selection  in  the  times 
which  had  arrived  was  silently  changing.  While  the  Gallic 
nation  retained,  or  desired  to  retain,  a  kind  of  unity,  some 
one  of  the  many  tribes  had  always  been  allowed  a  hege- 
mony. The  first  place  had  rested  generally  with  the 
^dui,  a  considerable  people  who  occupied  the  central 
parts  of  France,  between  the  Upper  Loire  and  the  Saone.^ 
The  Romans,  anxious  naturally  to  extend  their  influence 
in  the  country  without  direct  interference,  had  taken  the 
^dui  under  their  protectorate.  The  ^dui  again  had 
their  clients  in  the  inferior  tribes,  and  a  Roman-^duan 
authority  of  a  shadowy  kind  had  thus  penetrated  through 
the  whole  nation. 

But  the  T^duans  had  rivals  and  competitors  in  the  Se- 
quani,  another  powerful  body  in  Burgundy  and  Franche- 
Comte.  If  the  Romans  feared  the  Gauls  the  Gauls  in  turn 
feared  the  Romans;  and  a  national  party  had  formed  itself 
everywhere,  especially  among  the  younger  men,  who  were 
proud  of  their  independence,  impatient  of  foreign  control, 
and  determined  to  maintain  the  liberties  which  had  de- 
scended to  them.  To  these  the  Sequani  ofifered  them- 
selves as  champions.  Among  the  ^Edui  too  there  were 
fie'ry  spirits  who  cherished  the  old  traditions,  and  saw  in  the 


B.  c.  58]  THE  iEDUI  AND   SEQUANI  181 

Roman  alliance  a  prelude  to  annexation.  And  thus  it  was 
that  when  Caesar  was  appointed  to  Gaul,  in  every  tribe  and 
every  subtribe,  in  every  village  and  every  family,  there 
were  two  factions,^  each  under  its  own  captain,  each  strug- 
gling for  supremacy,  each  conspiring  and  fighting  among 
themselves,  and  each  seeking  or  leaning  upon  external 
support.  In  many,  if  not  in  all,  of  the  tribes  there  was  a 
senate,  or  council  of  elders,  and  these  appear  almost 
everywhere  to  have  been  ^duan  and  Roman  in  their  sym- 
pathies. The  Sequani  as  the  representatives  of  national- 
ism, knowing  that  they  could  not  stand  alone,  had  looked 
for  friends  elsewhere. 

The  Germans  had  long  turned  covetous  eyes  upon  the 
rich  cornfields  and  pastures  from  which  the  Rhine  divided 
them.  The  Cimbri  and  Teutons  had  been  but  the  van- 
guard of  a  multitude  who  were  eager  to  follow.  The  fate 
of  these  invaders  had  checked  the  impulse  for  half  a  cen- 
tury, but  the  lesson  was  now  forgotten.  Ariovistus,  a 
Bavarian  prince,  who  spoke  Gaelic  like  a  native,  and  had 
probably  long  meditated  conquest,  came  over  into 
Franche-Comte  at  the  invitation  of  the  Sequani,  bringing 
his  people  with  him.  The  few  thousand  families  which 
were  first  introduced  had  been  followed  by  fresh  detach- 
ments; they  had  attacked  and  beaten  the  ^dui,  out  of 
whose  territories  they  intended  to  carve  a  settlement  for 
themselves.  They  had  taken  hostages  from  them,  and  had 
broken  down  their  authority,  and  the  faction  of  the  Se- 
quani was  now  everywhere  in  the  ascendant.  The  ^dui, 
three  years  before  Caesar  came,  had  appealed  to  Rome  for 
assistance,  and  the  Senate  had  promised  that  the  Governor 
of  Gaul  should  support  them.  The  Romans,  hoping  to 
temporize  with  the  danger,  had  endeavoured  to  conciliate 
Ariovistus,  and  in  the  year  of  Caesar's  consulship  had  de- 
clared him  a  friend  of  the  Roman  people.  Ariovistus,  in 
turn,  had  pressed  the^dui  still  harder,  and  had  forced  them 
to  renounce  the  Roman  alliance.  Among  the  ^dui,  and 
throughout  the  country,  the  patriots  were  in  the  ascendant, 
and  Ariovistus  and  his  Germans  were  welcomed  as  friends 


l82  JULIUS   CiESAR  [b.  c.  58 

and  deliverers.  Thoughtful  persons  in  Rome  had  heard  of 
these  doings  with  uneasiness;  an  old  ^duan  chief  had  gone 
in  person  thither,  to  awaken  the  Senate  to  the  growing 
peril;  but  the  Senate  had  been  too  much  occupied  with  its 
fears  of  Caesar,  and  Agrarian  laws,  and  dangers  to  the  fish- 
ponds, to  attend;  and  now  another  great  movement  had 
begun,  equally  alarming  and  still  closer  to  the  Roman 
border. 

The  Helvetii  were  old  enemies.  They  were  a  branch  of 
the  Celtic  race,  who  occupied  modern  Switzerland,  hardy, 
bold  mountaineers,  and  seasoned  in  constant  war  with  their 
German  neighbours.  On  them,  too,  the  tide  of  migration 
from  the  North  had  pressed  continuously.  They  had 
hitherto  defended  themselves  successfully,  but  they  were 
growing  weary  of  these  constant  efforts.  Their  numbers 
were  increasing,  and  their  narrow  valleys  w^ere  too  strait  for 
them.  They  also  had  heard  of  fertile,  scantily  peopled 
lands  in  other  parts,  of  which  they  could  possess  themselves 
by  force  or  treaty,  and  they  had  already  shown  signs  of  rest- 
lessness. Many  thousands  of  them  had  broken  out  at  the 
time  of  the  Cimbrian  invasion.  They  had  defeated  Cassius 
Longinus,  who  was  then  consul,  near  their  own  border,  and 
had  annihilated  his  army.  They  had  carried  fire  and  sword 
down  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhone.  They  had  united  them- 
selves with  the  Teutons,  and  had  intended  to  accompany 
them  into  Italy.  Their  first  enterprise  failed.  They  per- 
ished in  the  great  battle  at  Aix,  and  the  parent  tribe  had 
remained  quiet  for  forty  years  till  a  new  generation  had 
grown  to  manhood.  Once  more  their  ambition  had  re- 
vived. Like  the  Germans,  they  had  formed  friendships 
among  the  Gallic  factions.  Their  reputation  as  warriors 
made  them  welcome  to  the  patriots.  In  a  fight  for  inde- 
pendence they  would  form  a  valuable  addition  to  the  forces 
of  their  countrymen.  They  had  allies  among  the  Sequani; 
they  had  allies  in  the  anti-Roman  party  which  had  risen 
among  the  .^.dui;  and  a  plan  had  been  formed  in  concert 
with  their  friends  for  a  migration  to  the  shores  of  the  Bay 
of  Biscay  between  the  mouths  of  the  Garonne  and  the 


B.  c.  58]  THE  HELVETIl  1 83 

Loire.  The  Cimbri  and  Teutons  had  passed  away,  but  the 
ease  with  which  the  Cimbri  had  made  the  circuit  of  these 
districts  had  shown  how  sHght  resistance  could  be  ex- 
pected from  the  inhabitants.  Perhaps  their  coming  had 
been  anticipated  and  prepared  for.  The  older  men  among 
the  Helvetii  had  discouraged  the  project  when  it  was  first 
mooted,  but  they  had  yielded  to  eagerness  and  enthusiasm, 
and  it  had  taken  at  last  a  practical  form.  Double  harvests 
had  been  raised;  provision  had  been  made  of  food  and 
transport  for  a  long  march;  and  a  complete  exodus  of  the 
entire  tribe  with  their  wives  and  families  had  been  finally 
resolved  on. 

If  the  Helvetii  deserted  Switzerland,  the  cantons  would 
be  immediately  occupied  by  Germans,  and  a  road  would 
be  opened  into  the  Province  for  the  enemy  whom  the  Ro- 
mans had  most  reason  to  dread.  The  distinction  between 
Germans  and  Gauls  was  not  accurately  known  at  Rome. 
They  were  confounded  under  the  common  name  of  Celts' 
or  Barbarians.  But  they  formed  together  an  ominous 
cloud  charged  with  forces  of  uncertain  magnitude,  but  of 
the  reality  of  which  Italy  had  had  already  terrible  experi- 
ence. Divitiacus,  chief  of  the  ^dui,  who  had  carried  to 
Rome  the  news  of  the  inroads  of  Ariovistus,  brought 
again  in  person  thither  the  account  of  th's  fresh  peril. 
Every  large  movement  of  population  suggested  the  possi- 
bility of  a  fresh  rush  across  the  Alps.  Little  energy  was  to 
be  expected  from  the  Senate.  But  the  body  of  the  citizens 
were  still  sound  at  heart.  Their  lives  and  properties  were 
at  stake,  and  they  could  feel  for  the  dignity  of  the  Empire. 
The  people  had  sent  Pompey  to  crush  the  pirates  and  con- 
quer Mithridates.  The  people  now  looked  to  Caesar,  and 
instead  of  the  "  woods  and  forests  "  which  the  Senate  de- 
signed for  him,  they  had  given  him  a  five-years'  command 
on  their  western  frontier. 

The  details  of  the  problem  before  him  Caesar  had  yet  to 
learn,  but  with  its  general  nature  he  must  have  intimately 
acquainted  himself.  Of  course  he  had  seen  and  spoken 
with   Divitiacus.     He  was   consul   when   Ariovistus   was 


l84  JULIUS    CESAR  [B.  c.  58 

made  "  a  friend  of  the  Roman  people."  He  must  have 
been  aware,  therefore,  of  the  introduction  of  the  Germans 
over  the  Rhine.  He  could  not  tell  what  he  might  have 
first  to  do.  There  were  other  unpleasant  symptoms  on 
the  side  of  Illyria  and  the  Danube.  From  either  quarter 
the  storm  might  break  upon  him.  No  Roman  general  was 
ever  sent  upon  an  enterprise  so  fraught  with  complicated 
possibilities,  and  few  with  less  experience  of  the  realities 
of  war. 

The  points  in  his  favour  were  these :  He  was  the  ablest 
Roman  then  living,  and  he  had  the  power  of  attract- 
ing and  attaching  the  ablest  men  to  his  service.  He  had 
five  years  in  which  to  look  about  him  and  to  act  at  leisure 
— as  much  time  as  had  been  given  to  Pompey  for  the  East. 
Like  Pompey,  too,  he  was  left  perfectly  free.  No  sena- 
toral  officials  could  encumber  him  with  orders  from  home. 
The  people  had  given  him  his  command,  and  to  the  people 
alone  he  was  responsible.  Lastly,  and  beyond  everything, 
he  could  rely  with  certainty  on  the  material  with  which 
he  had  to  work.  The  Roman  legionaries  were  no  longer 
yeomen  taken  from  the  plough  or  shopkeepers  from  the 
street.  They  were  men  more  completely  trained  in  every 
variety  of  accomplishment  than  have  perhaps  ever  fol- 
lowed a  general  into  the  field  before  or  since.  It  was  not 
enough  that  they  could  use  sword  and  lance.  The  cam- 
paign on  which  Caesar  was  about  to  enter  was  fought  with 
spade  and  pick  and  axe  and  hatchet.  Corps  of  engineers 
he  may  have  had;  but  if  the  engineers  designed  the  work, 
the  execution  lay  with  the  army.  No  limited  department 
would  have  been  equal  to  the  tasks  which  every  day  de- 
manded. On  each  evening  after  a  march,  a  fortified  camp 
was  to  be  formed,  with  mound  and  trench,  capable  of  re- 
sisting surprises,  and  demanding  the  labour  of  every  single 
hand.  Bridges  had  to  be  thrown  over  rivers.  Ships  and 
barges  had  to  be  built  or  repaired,  capable  of  service 
against  an  enemy,  on  a  scale  equal  to  the  requirements  of 
an  army,  and  in  a  haste  which  permitted  no  delay.  A 
transport  service  there  must  have  been  organized  to  per- 


B.  c.  58]  COMPOSITION  OF  CESAR'S  ARMY  185 

fection;  but  there  were  no  stores  sent  from  Italy  to  supply 
the  daily  waste  of  material.  The  men  had  to  mend  and 
perhaps  make  their  own  clothes  and  shoes,  and  repair  their 
own  arms.  Skill  in  the  use  of  tools  was  not  enough  with- 
out the  tools  themselves.  Had  the  spades  and  mattocks 
been  supplied  by  contract,  had  the  axes  been  of  soft  iron, 
fair  to  the  eye  and  failing  to  the  stroke,  not  a  man  in 
Caesar's  army  would  have  returned  to  Rome  to  tell  the  tale 
of  its  destruction.  How  the  legionaries  acquired  these 
various  arts,  whether  the  Italian  peasantry  were  generally 
educated  in  such  occupations,  or  whether  on  this  occasion 
there  was  a  special  selection  of  the  best,  of  this  we  have  no 
information.  Certain  only  it  was  that  men  and  instru- 
ments were  as  excellent  in  their  kind  as  honesty  and  skill 
could  make  them;  and,  however  degenerate  the  patricians 
and  corrupt  the  legislature,  there  was  sound  stuff  some- 
where in  the  Roman  constitution.  No  exertion,  no  fore- 
thought on  the  part  of  a  commander  could  have  extem- 
porized such  a  variety  of  qualities.  Universal  practical 
accomplishments  must  have  formed  part  of  the  training  of 
the  free  Roman  citizens.  Admirable  workmanship  was 
still  to  be  had  in  each  department  of  manufacture,  and 
every  article  with  which  Caesar  was  provided  must  have 
been  the  best  of  its  kind. 

The  first  quarter  of  the  year  58  was  consumed  in  prepa- 
rations. Caesar's  antagonists  in  the  Senate  were  still  rav- 
ing against  the  acts  of  his  consulship,  threatening  him  with 
impeachment  for  neglecting  Bibulus's  interpellations, 
charging  him  with  impiety  for  disregarding  the  weather, 
and  clamouring  for  the  suppression  of  his  command.  But 
Cicero's  banishment  damped  the  ardour  of  these  gentle- 
men; after  a  few  vicious  efforts,  they  subsided  into  sullen- 
ness,  and  trusted  to  Ariovistus  or  the  Helvetii  to  relieve 
them  of  their  detested  enemy.  Caesar  himself  selected  his 
officers.  Cicero  having  declined  to  go  as  his  Heutenant, 
he  had  chosen  Labienus,  who  had  acted  with  him  when 
tribune,  in  the  prosecution  of  Rabirius,  and  had  procured 
him  the  pontificate  by  giving  the  election  to  the  people. 


1 86  JULIUS   C^SAR  [B.  c.  58 

Young  men  of  rank  in  large  numbers  had  forgotten  party 
feeling,  and  had  attached  themselves  to  the  expedition  as 
volunteers  to  learn  military  experience.  His  own  equip- 
ments were  of  the  simplest.  No  common  soldier  was 
more  careless  of  hardships  than  Caesar.  His  chief  luxury 
was  a  favourite  horse,  which  would  allow  no  one  but  Caesar 
to  mount  him;  a  horse  which  had  been  bred  in  his  own 
stables,  and,  from  the  peculiarity  of  a  divided  hoof,  had  led 
the  augurs  to  foretell  wonders  for  the  rider  of  it.  His  ar- 
rangements were  barely  completed  when  news  came  in 
the  middle  of  March  that  the  Helvetii  were  burning  their 
towns  and  villages,  gathering  their  families  into  their  wag- 
gons, and  were  upon  the  point  of  commencing  their  emigra- 
tion. Their  numbers,  according  to  a  register  which  was 
found  afterwards,  were  368,000,  of  whom  92,000  were 
fighting  men.  They  were  bound  for  the  West;  and  there 
were  two  roads,  by  one  or  other  of  which  alone  they  could 
leave  their  country.  One  was  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
Rhone  by  the  Pas  de  I'Ecluse,  a  pass  between  the  Jura 
mountains  and  the  river,  so  narrow  that  but  two  carts 
could  go  abreast  along  it;  the  other,  and  easier,  was 
through  Savoy,  which  was  now  Roman. 

Under  any  aspect  the  transit  of  so  vast  a  body  through 
Roman  teritory  could  not  but  be  dangerous.  Savoy  was 
the  very  ground  on  which  Longinus  had  been  destroyed. 
Yet  it  was  in  this  direction  that  the  Helvetii  were  pre- 
paring to  pass,  and  would  pass  unless  they  were  prevented; 
while  in  the  whole  Transalpine  province  there  was  but  a 
single  legion  to  oppose  them.  Caesar  started  on  the  in- 
stant. He  reached  Marseilles  in  a  few  days,  joined  his 
legion,  collected  a  few  levies  in  the  Province,  and  hurried 
to  Geneva.  Where  the  river  leaves  the  lake  there  was  a 
bridge  which  the  Helvetii  had  neglected  to  occupy. 
Caesar  broke  it,  and  thus  secured  a  breathing  time.  The 
Helvetii,  who  were  already  on  the  move  and  were  assem- 
bling in  force  a  few  miles  off,  sent  to  demand  a  passage. 
If  it  was  refused,  there  was  more  than  one  spot  between 
the  lake  and  the  Pas  de  I'Ecluse  where  the  river  could  be 


B.  c.  58]  THE  HELVETII  I87 

forded.  The  Roman  force  was  small,  and  Caesar  post- 
poned his  reply.  It  was  the  ist  of  April;  he  promised  an 
answer  on  the  15th.  In  the  interval  he  threw  up  forts, 
dug  trenches,  and  raised  walls  at  every  point  where  a  pass- 
age could  be  attempted;  and  when  the  time  was  expired, 
he  declined  to  permit  them  to  enter  the  Province.  They 
tried 'to  ford;  they  tried  boats;  but  at  every  point  they 
were  beaten  back.  It  remained  for  them  to  go  by  the 
Pas  de  I'Ecluse.  For  this  route  they  required  the  consent 
of  the  Sequani;  and,  however  willing  the  Sequani  might 
be  to  see  them  in  their  neighbours'  territories,  they  might 
object  to  the  presence  in  their  own  of  such  a  flight  of  de- 
vouring locusts.  Evidently,  however,  there  was  some 
general  scheme,  of  which  the  entry  of  the  Helvetii  into 
Gaul  was  the  essential  part;  and  through  the  mediation 
of  Dumnorix,  an  ^duan  and  an  ardent  patriot,  the  Se- 
quani were  induced  to  agree. 

The  Province  had  been  saved,  but  the  exodus  of  the 
enormous  multitude  could  no  longer  be  prevented.  If 
such  waves  of  population  were  allowed  to  wander  at 
pleasure,  it  was  inevitable  that  sooner  or  later  they  would 
overflow  the  borders  of  the  Empire.  Caesar  determined  to 
show,  at  once  and  peremptorily,  that  these  movements 
would  not  be  permitted  without  the  Romans'  consent. 
Leaving  Labienus  to  guard  the  forts  on  the  Rhone,  he 
hurried  back  to  Italy,  gathered  up  his  three  legions  at 
Aquileia,  raised  two  more  at  Turin  with  extreme  rapidity, 
and  returned  with  them  by  the  shortest  route  over  the  Mont 
Genevre.  The  mountain  tribes  attacked  him,  but  could 
not  even  delay  his  march.  In  seven  days  he  had  sur- 
mounted the  passes,  and  was  again  with  Labienus. 

The  Helvetii,  meanwhile,  had  gone  through  the  Pas  de 
I'Ecluse,  and  were  now  among  the  ^Edui,  laying  waste  the 
country.  It  was  early  in  the  summer.  The  corn  was 
green,  the  hay  was  still  uncut,  and  the  crops  were  being 
eaten  off  the  ground.  The  ^dui  threw  themselves  on  the 
promised  protection  of  Rome.  Caesar  crossed  the  Rhone 
above  Lyons,  and  came  up  with  the  marauding  hosts  as 


1 88  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  58 

they  were  leisurely  passing  in  boats  over  the  Saone.  They 
had  been  twenty  days  upon  the  river,  transporting  their 
waggons  and  their  families.  Three-quarters  of  them  were 
on  the  other  side.  The  Tigurini  from  Zurich,  the  most 
warlike  of  their  tribes,  were  still  on  the  left  bank.  The 
Tigurini  had  destroyed  the  army  of  Longinus,  and  on 
them  the  first  retribution  fell.  Caesar  cut  them  to  pieces. 
A  single  day  sufficed  to  throw  a  bridge  over  the  Saone  and 
the  Helvetii,  who  had  looked  for  nothing  less  than  to  be 
pursued  by  six  Roman  legions,  begged  for  peace.  They 
were  willing,  they  said,  to  go  to  any  part  of  the  country 
which  Caesar  would  assign  to  them;  and  they  reminded  him 
that  they  might  be  dangerous,  if  pushed  to  extremities. 
Caesar  knew  that  they  were  dangerous.  He  had  followed 
them  because  he  knew  it.  He  said  that  they  must  return 
the  way  they  had  come.  They  must  pay  for  the  injuries 
w^hich  they  had  inflicted  on  the  ^dui,  and  they  must  give 
him  hostages  for  their  obedience.  The  fierce  mountain- 
eers replied  that  they  had  been  more  used  to  demand  host- 
ages than  to  give  them;  and  confident  in  their  numbers, 
and  in  their  secret  allies  among  the  Gauls,  they  marched  on 
through  the  ^duan  territories  up  the  level  banks  of  the 
Saone,  thence  striking  west  towards  Autun. 

Caesar  had  no  cavalry;  but  every  Gaul  could  ride,  and  he 
raised  a  few  thousand  horse  among  his  supposed  allies. 
These  he  meant  to  employ  to  harass  the  Helvetian  march; 
but  they  were  secret  traitors,  under  the  influence  of  Dum- 
norix,  and  they  fled  at  the  first  encounter.  The  Helvetii 
had  thus  the  country  at  their  mercy,  and  they  laid  it  waste 
as  they  went,  a  day's  march  in  advance  of  the  Romans. 
So  long  as  they  kept  by  the  river  Caesar's  stores  accom- 
panied him  in  barges.  He  did  not  choose  to  let  the  Hel- 
vetii out  of  his  sight,  and  when  they  left  the  Saone,  and 
when  he  was  obliged  to  follow,  his  provisions  ran  short. 
He  applied  to  the  yEduan  chiefs,  who  promised  to  furnish 
him,  but  they  failed  to  do  it.  Ten  days  passed,  and  no 
supplies  came  in.  He  ascertained  at  last  that  there  was 
treachery.     Dumnorix  and  other  -^duan  leaders  were  in 


B.  c.  58]  THE   HELVETII  1 89 

correspondence  with  the  enemy.  The  cavalry  defeat  and 
the  other  failures  were  thus  explained.  Csesar,  who 
trusted  much  to  gentleness  and  to  personal  influence,  was 
unwilling  to  add  the  ^dui  to  his  open  enemies.  Dum- 
norix  was  the  brother  of  Divitiacus,  the  reigning  chief, 
whom  Csesar  had  known  in  Rome.  Divitiacus  was  sent 
for,  confessed  with  tears  his  brother's  misdeeds,  and 
begged  that  he  might  be  forgiven.  Dumnorix  was 
brought  in.  Caesar  showed  him  that  he  was  aware  of  his 
conduct;  but  spoke  kindly  to  him,  and  cautioned  him  for 
the  future.  The  corn  carts,  however,  did  not  appear;  sup- 
plies could  not  be  dispensed  with;  and  the  Romans,  leav- 
ing the  Helvetii,  struck  off  to  Bibracte,  on  Mont  Beau- 
vray,  the  principal  yEduan  town  in  the  highlands  of  Niver- 
nais.  Unfortunately  for  themselves,  the  Helvetii  thought 
the  Romans  were  flying,  and  became  in  turn  the  pursuers. 
They  gave  Caesar  an  opportunity,  and  a  single  battle  ended 
them  and  their  migrations.  The  engagement  lasted  from 
noon  till  night.  The  Helvetii  fought  gallantly,  and  in 
numbers  were  enormously  superior;  but  the  contest  was 
between  skill  and  courage,  sturdy  discipline  and  wild  val- 
our; and  it  concluded  as  such  contests  always  must.  In 
these  hand-to-hand  engagements  there  were  no  wounded. 
Half  the  fighting  men  of  the  Swiss  were  killed ;  their  camp 
was  stormed;  the  survivors,  with  the  remnant  of  the  wo- 
men and  children,  or  such  of  them  as  were  capable  of  mov- 
ing (for  thousands  had  perished,  and  a  Httle  more  than  a 
third  remained  of  those  who  had  left  Switzerland),  strag- 
gled on  to  Langres,  where  they  surrendered.  Caesar 
treated  the  poor  creatures  with  kindness  and  care.  A  few 
were  settled  in  Gaul,  where  they  afterwards  did  valuable 
service.  The  rest  were  sent  back  to  their  own  cantons, 
lest  the  Germans  should  take  possession  of  their  lands; 
and  lest  they  should  starve  in  the  homes  which  they  had 
desolated  before  their  departure,  they  were  provided  with 
food  out  of  the  Province  till  their  next  crops  were  grown. 

A  victory  so  complete  and  so  unexpected  astonished  the 
whole  country.     The  peace  party  recovered  the  ascend- 


IQO  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  58 

ency.  Envoys  came  from  all  the  Gaulish  tribes  to  con- 
gratulate, and  a  diet  of  chiefs  was  held  under  Caesar's  presi- 
dency, where  Gaul  and  Roman  seemed  to  promise  one 
another  eternal  friendship.  As  yet,  however,  half  the  mis- 
chief only  had  been  dealt  with,  and  that  the  lighter  part. 
The  Helvetii  were  disposed  of,  but  the  Germans  remained; 
and  till  Ariovistus  was  back  across  the  Rhone,  no  permanent 
peace  was  possible.  Hitherto  Caesar  had  only  received 
vague  information  about  Ariovistus.  When  the  diet  was 
over,  such  of  the  chiefs  as  were  sincere  in  their  professions 
came  to  him  privately  and  explained  what  the  Germans 
were  about.  A  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  of  them 
were  now  settled  near  Belfort,  and  between  the  Vosges 
and  the  Rhine,  with  the  connivance  of  the  Sequani.  More 
were  coming;  in  a  short  time  Gaul  would  be  full  of  them. 
They  had  made  war  on  the  ^dui;  they  were  in  correspon- 
dence with  the  anti-Roman  faction;  their  object  was  the 
permanent  occupation  of  the  country. 

Two  months  still  remained  of  summer.  Caesar  was  now 
conveniently  near  to  the  German  positions.  His  army 
was  in  high  spirits  from  its  victory,  and  he  himself  was 
prompt  in  forming  resolutions  and  swift  in  executing  them. 
An  injury  to  the  ^dui  could  be  treated  as  an  injury  to  the 
Romans,  which  it  would  be  dishonour  to  pass  over.  If  the 
Germans  were  allowed  to  overrun  Gaul,  they  might  soon 
be  seen  again  in  Italy. 

Ariovistus  was  a  ''  friend  of  Rome."  Caesar  had  been 
himself  a  party  to  the  conferring  this  distinction  upon 
him.  As  a  friend,  therefore,  he  was  in  the  first  instance 
to  be  approached.  Caesar  sent  to  invite  him  to  a  confer- 
ence. Ariovistus,  it  seemed,  set  small  value  upon  his 
honours.  He  replied  that  if  he  needed  anything  from 
Caesar,  he  would  go  to  Caesar  and  ask  for  it.  If  Caesar 
required  anything  from  him,  Caesar  might  do  the  same. 
Meanwhile  Caesar  was  approaching  a  part  of  Gaul  which 
belonged  to  himself  by  right  of  conquest,  and  he  wished  to 
know  the  meaning  of  the  presence  of  a  Roman  army  there. 

After  such  an  answer,  politeness  ceased  to  be  necessary. 


B.  c.  58]  ALARM   IN   THE   ROMAN  ARMY  iQl 

Caesar  rejoined  that  since  Ariovistus  estimated  so  lightly 
his  friendship  with  the  Romans  as  to  refuse  an  amicable 
meeting,  he  would  inform  him  briefly  of  his  demands  upon 
him.  The  influx  of  Germans  on  the  Rhine  must  cease: 
no  more  must  come  in.  He  must  restore  the  hostages 
which  he  had  taken  from  the  ^dui,  and  do  them  no  further 
hurt.  If  Ariovistus  complied,  the  Romans  would  con- 
tinue on  good  terms  with  him.  If  not,  he  said  that  by  a 
decree  of  the  Senate  the  Governor  of  Gaul  was  ordered  to 
protect  the  ^dui,  and  he  intended  to  do  it. 

Ariovistus  answered  that  he  had  not  interfered  with  the 
Romans;  and  the  Romans  had  no  right  to  interfere  with 
him.  Conquerors  treated  their  subjects  as  they  pleased. 
The  ^dui  had  begun  the  quarrel  with  him.  They  had 
been  defeated,  and  were  now  his  vassals.  If  Caesar  chose 
to  come  between  him  and  his  subjects,  he  would  have  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  how  Germans  could  fight  who  had 
not  for  fourteen  years  slept  under  a  roof. 

It  was  reported  that  a  large  body  of  Suevi  were  coming 
over  the  Rhine  to  swell  Ariovistus's  force,  and  that  Ari- 
ovistus was  on  the  point  of  advancing  to  seize  Besangon. 
Besangon  was  a  position  naturally  strong,  being  sur- 
rounded on  three  sides  by  the  Doubs.  It  was  full  of  mili- 
tary stores,  and  was  otherwise  important  for  the  control 
of  the  Sequani.  Caesar  advanced  swiftly  and  took  posses- 
sion of  the  place,  and  announced  that  he  meant  to  go  and 
look  for  Ariovistus. 

The  army  so  far  had  gained  brilliant  successes,  but  the 
men  were  not  yet  fully  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  their 
commander.  They  had  never  yet  looked  Germans  in  the 
face  and  imagination  magnifies  the  unknown.  Roman  mer- 
chants and  the  Gauls  of  the  neighbourhood  brought  stories 
of  the  gigantic  size  and  strength  of  these  Northern  war^ 
riors.  The  glare  of  their  eyes  was  reported  to  be  so  fierce 
that  it  could  not  be  borne.  They  were  wild,  wonderful, 
and  dreadful.  Young  ofUcers,  patricians  and  knights, 
who  had  followed  Caesar  for  a  little  mild  experience,  began 
to  dislike  the  notion  of  these  new  enemies.     Some  applied 


192  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  58 

for  leave  of  absence;  others,  though  ashamed  to  ask  to  be 
allowed  to  leave  the  army,  cowered  in  their  tents  with  sink- 
ing hearts,  made  their  wills,  and  composed  last  messages 
for  their  friends.  The  centurions  caught  the  alarm  from 
their  superiors,  and  the  legionaries  from  the  centurions. 
To  conceal  their  fear  of  the  Germans,  the  men  discovered 
that,  if  they  advanced  further,  it  would  be  through  regions 
where  provisions  could  not  follow  them,  and  that  they 
would  be  starved  in  the  forests.  At  length,  Caesar  was  in- 
formed that  if  he  gave  the  order  to  march,  the  army  would 
refuse  to  move. 

Confident  in  himself,  Caesar  had  the  power,  so  indis- 
pensable for  a  soldier,  of  inspiring  confidence  in  others 
as  soon  as  they  came  to  know  what  he  was.  He  called 
his  officers  together.  He  summoned  the  centurions,  and 
rebuked  them  sharply  for  questioning  his  purposes.  The 
German  king,  he  said,  had  been  received  at  his  own  re- 
quest into  alliance  with  the  Romans,  and  there  was  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  he  meant  to  break  with  them. 
Most  likely  he  would  do  what  was  required  of  him.  If 
not,  was  it  to  be  conceived  that  they  were  afraid?  Marius 
had  beaten  these  same  Germans.  Even  the  Swiss  had 
beaten  them.  They  were  no  more  formidable  than  other 
barbarians.  They  might  trust  their  commander  for  the 
commissariat.  The  harvest  was  ripe,  and  the  difficulties 
were  nothing.  As  to  the  refusal  to  march,  he  did  not 
believe  in  it.  Romans  never  mutinied,  save  through  the 
rapacity  or  incompetence  of  their  general.  His  life  was 
a  witness  that  he  was  not  rapacious,  and  his  victory  over 
the  Helvetii  that  as  yet  he  had  made  no  mistake.  He 
should  order  the  advance  on  the  next  evening,  and  it  would 
then  be  seen  whether  sense  of  duty  or  cowardice  was  the 
stronger.  If  others  declined,  Caesar  said  that  he  should 
go  forward  alone  with  the  legion  which  he  knew  would 
follow  him,  the  Tenth,  which  was  already  his  favourite. 

The  speech  was  received  with  enthusiasm.  The  Tenth 
thanked  Caesar  for  his  compliment  to  them.  The  rest, 
officers  and  men,  declared  their  willingness  to  follow  wher- 


B.  c.  58]  INTERVIEW  WITH  ARIOVISTUS  I93 

ever  he  might  lead  them.  He  started  with  Divitiacus  for 
a  guide;  and,  passing  Belfort,  came  in  seven  days  to  Cernay 
or  to  some  point  near  it.  Ariovistus  was  now  but  four- 
and-twenty  miles  from  him.  Since  Caesar  had  gone  so  far, 
Ariovistus  said  that  he  was  willing  to  meet  him.  Day  and 
place  were  named,  the  conditions  being  that  the  armies 
should  remain  in  their  ranks,  and  that  Caesar  and  he 
might  each  bring  a  guard  of  horse  to  the  interview.  He 
expected  that  Caesar  would  be  contented  with  an  escort  of 
the  iEduan  cavalry.  Caesar,  knowing  better  than  to  trust 
himself  with  Gauls,  mounted  his  Tenth  Legion,  and  with 
them  proceeded  to  the  spot  which  Ariovistus  had  chosen. 
It  was  a  tumulus,  in  the  centre  of  a  large  plain  equidistant 
from  the  two  camps.  The  guard  on  either  side  remained 
two  hundred  paces  in  the  rear.  The  German  prince  and 
the  Roman  general  met  on  horseback  at  the  mound,  each 
accompanied  by  ten  of  his  followers.  Caesar  spoke  first 
and  fairly.  He  reminded  Ariovistus  of  his  obligations 
to  the  Romans.  The  ^dui,  he  said,  had  from  imme- 
morial time  been  the  leading  tribe  in  Gaul.  The  Romans 
had  an  alliance  with  them  of  old  standing,  and  never  de- 
serted their  friends.  He  required  Ariovistus  to  desist 
from  attacking  them,  and  to  return  their  hostages.  He 
consented  that  the  Germans  already  across  the  Rhine 
might  remain  in  Gaul,  but  he  demanded  a  promise  that  no 
more  should  be  brought  over. 

Ariovistus  haughtily  answered  that  he  was  a  great  king; 
that  he  had  come  into  Gaul  by  the  invitation  of  the  Gauls 
themselves;  that  the  territory  which  he  occupied  was  a  gift 
from  them;  and  that  the  hostages  of  whom  Caesar  spoke 
had  remained  with  him  with  their  free  consent.  The 
^Edui,  he  said,  had  begun  the  war,  and,  being  defeated, 
were  made  justly  to  pay  forfeit.  He  had  sought  the  friend- 
ship of  the  Romans,  expecting  to  profit  by  it.  If  friend- 
ship meant  the  taking  away  his  subjects  from  him,  he 
desired  no  more  of  such  friendship.  The  Romans  had 
their  province.  It  was  enough  for  them,  and  they  might 
remain  there  unmolested.  But  Caesar's  presence  so  far 
13 


194  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  58 

beyond  his  own  borders  was  a  menace  to  his  own  inde- 
pendence, and  his  independence  he  intended  to  maintain. 
Caesar  must  go  away  out  of  those  parts,  or  he  and  his 
Germans  would  know  how  to  deal  with  him. 

Then,  speaking  perhaps  more  privately,  he  told  Caesar 
that  he  knew  something  of  Rome  and  of  the  Roman  Sen- 
ate, and  had  learnt  how  the  great  people  there  stood 
afTected  toward  the  Governor  of  Gaul.  Certain  members 
of  the  Roman  aristocracy  had  sent  him  messages  to  say 
that  if  he  killed  Caesar  they  would  hold  it  a  good  service 
done,*  and  would  hold  him  their  friend  forever.  He  did 
not  wish,  he  said,  to  bind  himself  to  these  noble  persons. 
He  would  prefer  Caesar  rather;  and  would  fight  Caesar's 
battles  for  him  anywhere  in  the  world  if  Caesar  would  but 
retire  and  leave  him.  Ariovistus  was  misled,  not  unnatu- 
rally, by  these  strange  communications  from  the  sovereign 
rulers  of  the  Empire.  He  did  not  know,  he  could  not 
know,  that  the  genius  of  Rome  and  the  true  chief  of  Rome 
were  not  in  the  treacherous  Senate,  but  were  before  him 
there  on  the  field  in  the  persons  of  Caesar  and  his  legions. 

More  might  have  passed  between  them;  but  Ariovistus 
thought  to  end  the  conference  by  a  stroke  of  treachery. 
His  German  guard  had  stolen  round  to  where  the  Romans 
stood,  and,  supposing  that  they  had  Gauls  to  deal  with, 
were  trying  to  surround  and  disarm  them.  The  men  of 
the  Tenth  Legion  stood  firm;  Caesar  fell  back  and  joined 
them,  and,  contenting  themselves  with  simply  driving  off 
the  enemy,  they  rode  back  to  the  camp. 

The  army  was  now  passionate  for  an  engagement.  Ari- 
ovistus affected  a  desire  for  further  communication,  and 
two  officers  were  despatched  to  hear  what  he  had  to  say; 
but  they  were  immediately  seized  and  put  in  chains,  and 
the  Germans  advanced  to  within  a  few  miles  of  the  Ro- 
man outposts.  The  Romans  lay  intrenched  near  Cernay. 
The  Germans  were  at  Colmar.  Caesar  offered  battle,  which 
Ariovistus  declined.  Cavalry  fights  happened  daily  which 
led  to  nothing.  Caesar  then  formed  a  second  camp, 
smaller  but  strongly  fortified,  within  sight  of  the  enemy, 


B.  c.  58-57]  •      BATTLE  AT  COLMAR  I95 

and  threw  two  legions  into  it.  Ariovistus  attacked  them, 
but  he  was  beaten  back  with  loss.  The  *'  wise  women  " 
advised  him  to  try  no  more  till  the  new  moon.  But  Caesar 
would  not  wait  for  the  moon,  and  forced  an  engagement. 
The  wives  and  daughters  of  the  Germans  rushed  about 
their  camp,  with  streaming  hair,  adjuring  their  country- 
men to  save  them  from  slavery.  The  Germans  fought  like 
heroes;  but  they  could  not  stand  against  the  short  sword 
and  hand-to-hand  grapple  of  the  legionaries.  Better  arms 
and  better  discipline  again  asserted  the  superiority;  and 
in  a  few  hours  the  invaders  were  flying  wildly  to  the  Rhine. 
Young  Publius  Crassus,  the  son  of  the  millionaire,  pur- 
sued with  the  cavalry.  A  few  swam  the  river;  a  few,  Ari- 
ovistus among  them,  escaped  in  boats;  all  the  rest,  men 
and  women  alike,  were  cut  down  and  killed.  The  Suevi, 
who  were  already  on  the  Rhine,  preparing  to  cross,  turned 
back  into  their  forests;  and  the  two  immediate  perils  which 
threatened  the  peace  of  Gaul  had  been  encountered  and 
trampled  out  in  a  single  summer.  The  first  campaign  was 
thus  ended.  The  legions  were  distributed  in  winter 
quarters  among  the  Sequani,  the  contrivers  of  the  mischief; 
and  Labienus  was  left  in  charge  of  them.  Caesar  went 
back  over  the  Alps  to  the  Cisalpine  division  of  the  Prov- 
ince to  look  into  the  administration  and  to  communicate 
with  his  friends  in  Rome. 

In  Gaul  there  was  outward  quiet;  but  the  news  of  the 
Roman  victories  penetrated  the  farthest  tribes  and  agi- 
tated the  most  distant  households  on  the  shores  of  the 
North  Sea.  The  wintering  of  the  legions  beyond  the 
province  was  taken  to  indicate  an  intention  of  permanent 
conquest.  The  Gauls  proper  were  divided  and  overawed; 
but  the  Belgians  of  the  North  were  not  prepared  to  part 
so  easily  with  their  liberty.  The  Belgians  considered  that 
they  too  were  menaced,  and  that  now  or  never  was  the  time 
to  strike  for  their  independence.  They  had  not  been  in- 
fected with  Roman  manners.  They  had  kept  the  mer- 
chants from  their  borders  with  their  foreign  luxuries.  The 
Nervii,   the  fiercest  of  them,   as  the  abstemious   Caesar 


196  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  57 

marks  with  approbation,  were  water-drinkers,  and  forbade 
wine  to  be  brought  among  them,  as  injurious  to  their  sin- 
ews and  their  courage.  Caesar  learnt  while  in  Italy  from 
Labienus  that  the  Belgae  were  mustering  and  combining. 
A  second  vast  horde  of  Germans  were  in  Flanders  and 
Artois;  men  of  the  same  race  with  the  Belgae  and  in  active 
confederacy  with  them.  They  might  have  been  left  in 
peace,  far  off  as  they  were,  had  they  sat  still ;  but  the  notes 
of  their  preparations  were  sounding  through  the  country 
and  feeding  the  restless  spirit  which  was  stunned  but  not 
subdued. 

Caesar,  on  his  own  responsibility,  raised  two  more  legions 
and  sent  them  across  the  Alps  in  the  spring.  When  the 
grass  began  to  grow  he  followed  himself.  Suddenly,  be- 
fore anyone  looked  for  him,  he  was  on  the  Marne  with 
his  army.  The  Remi  (people  of  Rheims),  startled  by  his 
unexpected  appearance,  sent  envoys  with  their  submission 
and  offers  of  hostages.  The  other  Belgian  tribes,  they 
said,  were  determined  upon  war,  and  were  calling  all  their 
warriors  under  arms.  Their  united  forces  were  reported 
to  amount  to  300,000.  The  Bellovaci  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Seine  had  sent  60,000;  the  Suessiones  from  Soissons, 
50,000;  the  Nervii,  between  the  Sambre  and  the  Scheldt, 
50,000;  Arras  and  Amiens,  25,000;  the  coast  tribes,  36,000; 
and  the  tribes  between  the  Ardennes  and  the  Rhine,  called 
collectively  Germani,  40,000  more.  This  irregular  host 
was  gathered  in  the  forests  between  Laon  and  Soissons. 

Caesar  did  not  wait  for  them  to  move.  He  advanced 
at  once  to  Rheims,  where  he  called  the  Senate  together 
and  encouraged  them  to  be  constant  to  the  Roman  alli- 
ance. He  sent  a  party  of  ^dui  down  the  Seine  to  harass 
the  territory  of  the  Bellovaci  and  recall  them  to  their  own 
defence;  and  he  went  on  himself  to  the  Aisne,  which  he 
crossed  by  a  bridge  already  existing  at  Berry-au-Bac. 
There,  with  the  bridge  and  river  at  his  back,  he  formed  an 
intrenched  camp  of  extraordinary  strength,  with  a  wall 
twelve  feet  high  and  a  fosse  twenty-two  feet  deep. 
Against  an  attack  with  modern  artillery  such  defences 


B.  c.  57]  DEFEAT   OF  THE  BELG^  :  IQ/ 

would,  of  course,  be  idle.  As  the  art  of  war  then  stood, 
they  were  impregnable.  In  this  position  Caesar  waited, 
leaving  six  cohorts  on  the  left  bank  to  guard  the  other  end 
of  the  bridge.  The  Belgae  came  forward  and  encamped  in 
his  front.  Their  watch-fires  at  night  were  seen  stretching 
along  a  line  eight  miles  wide.  Caesar,  after  feeling  his  way 
with  his  cavalry,  found  a  rounded  ridge  projecting  like  a 
promontory  into  the  plain  where  the  Belgian  host  was 
lying.  On  this  he  advanced  his  legions,  protecting  his 
flanks  with  continuous  trenches  and  earthworks,  on  which 
were  plaped  heavy  crossbows,  the  ancient  predecessors  of 
cannon.  Between  these  lines,  if  he  attacked  the  enemy 
and  failed,  he  had  a  secure  retreat.  A  marsh  lay  between 
the  armies;  and  each  waited  for  the  other  to  cross.  The 
Belgians,  impatient  of  the  delay,  flung  themselves  suddenly 
on  one  side  and  began  to  pour  across  the  river,  intending 
to  destroy  the  cohorts  on  the  other  bank,  to  cut  the  bridge, 
and  burn  and  plunder  among  the  Remi.  Caesar  calmly 
sent  back  his  cavalry  and  his  archers  and  slingers.  They 
caught  the  enemy  in  the  water  or  struggling  out  of  it  in 
confusion;  all  who  had  got  over  were  killed;  multitudes 
were  slaughtered  in  the  river;  others,  trying  to  cross  on 
the  bodies  of  their  comrades,  were  driven  back.  The  con- 
federates, shattered  at  a  single  defeat,  broke  up  like  an  ex- 
ploded shell.  Their  provisions  had  run  short.  They 
melted  away  and  dispersed  to  their  homes,  Labienus  pur- 
suing and  cutting  down  all  that  he  could  overtake. 

The  Roman  loss  was  insignificant  in  this  battle.  The 
most  remarkable  feature  in  Caesar's  campaigns,  and  that 
which  indicates  most  clearly  his  greatness  as  a  commander, 
was  the  smallness  of  the  number  of  men  that  he  ever  lost, 
either  by  the  sword  or  by  wear  and  tear.  No  general  was 
ever  so  careful  of  his  soldiers'  lives. 

Soissons,  a  fortified  Belgian  town,  surrendered  the  next 
day.  From  Soissons  Caesar  marched  on  Breteuil  and 
thence  on  Amiens,  which  surrendered  also.  The  Bellovaci 
sent  in  their  submission,  the  leaders  of  the  war  party  having 
fled   to    Britain.     Caesar  treated   them   all   with   scrupu- 


198  JULIUS  CESAR  [B.  c.  57 

lous  forbearance,  demanding  nothing  but  hostages  for  their 
future  good  behaviour.  His  intention  at  this  time  was 
apparently  not  to  annex  any  of  these  tribes  to  Rome,  but 
to  settle  the  country  in  a  quasi-independence  under  an 
-^duan  hegemony. 

But  the  strongest  member  of  the  confederacy  was  still 
unsubdued.  The  hardy,  brave,  and  water-drinking  Nervii 
remained  defiant.  The  Nervii  would  send  no  envoys;  they 
would  listen  to  no  terms  of  peace.^  Caesar  learnt  that 
they  were  expecting  to  be  joined  by  the  Aduatuci,  a  tribe 
of  pure  Germans,  who  had  been  left  behind  near  Liege  at 
the  time  of  the  invasion  of  the  Teutons.  Preferring  to 
engage  them  separately,  he  marched  from  Amiens  through 
Cambray,  and  sent  forward  some  officers  and  pioneers  to 
choose  a  spot  for  a  camp  on  the  Sambre.  Certain  Gauls, 
who  had  observed  his  habits  on  march,  deserted  to  the 
Nervii  and  informed  them  that  usually  a  single  legion  went 
in  advance,  the  baggage  waggons  followed,  and  the  rest  of 
the  army  came  in  the  rear.  By  a  sudden  attack  in  front 
they  could  overwhelm  the  advanced  troops,  plunder  the 
carts,  and  escape  before  they  could  be  overtaken.  It  hap- 
pened that  on  this  occasion  the  order  was  reversed.  The 
country  was  inclosed  with  thick  fences,  which  required  to 
be  cut  through.  Six  legions  marched  in  front,  clearing  a 
road;  the  carts  came  next,  and  two  legions  behind.  The 
site  selected  by  the  officers  was  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Sambre  at  Maubeuge,  fifty  miles  above  Namur.  The 
ground  sloped  easily  down  to  the  river,  which  was  there 
about  a  yard  in  depth.  There  was  a  corresponding  rise  on 
the  other  side,  which  was  densely  covered  with  wood.  In 
this  wood  the  whole  force  of  the  Nervii  lay  concealed,  a  few 
only  showing  themselves  on  the  water  side.  Caesar's 
light  horse  which  had  gone  forward,  seeing  a  mere  handful 
of  stragglers,  rode  through  the  stream  and  skirmished  with 
them;  but  the  enemy  retired  under  cover;  the  horse  did  not 
pursue;  the  six  legions  came  up,  and,  not  dreaming  of  the 
nearness  of  the  enemy,  laid  aside  their  arms,  and  went  to 
work  intrenching  with  spade  and  mattock.     The  baggage 


B.  c.  57]  BATTLE   WITH   THE  NERVII  I99 

waggons  began  presently  to  appear  at  the  crest  of  the  hill, 
the  signal  for  which  the  Nervii  had  waited;  and  in  a  mo- 
ment all  along  the  river  sixty  thousand  of  them  rushed 
out  of  the  forest,  sent  the  cavalry  flying,  and  came  on  so 
impetuously  that,  as  Caesar  said,  they  seemed  to  be  in  the 
wood,  in  the  water,  and  up  the  opposite  bank  at  sword's 
point  with  the  legions  at  the  same  moment.  The  surprise 
was  complete:  the  Roman  army  was  in  confusion.  Many 
of  the  soldiers  were  scattered  at  a  distance,  cutting  turf. 
None  were  in  their  ranks,  and  none  were  armed.  Never 
in  all  his  campaigns  was  Caesar  in  greater  danger.  He 
could  himself  give  no  general  orders  which  there  was  time 
to  observe.  Two  points  only,  he  said,  were  in  his  favour. 
The  men  themselves  were  intelligent  and  experienced,  and 
knew  what  they  had  to  do;  and  the  officers  were  all  present, 
because  he  had  directed  that  none  of  them  should  leave 
their  companies  till  the  camp  was  completed.  The  troops 
were  spread  loosely  in  their  legions  along  the  brow  of  the 
ridge.  Caesar  joined  the  Tenth  on  his  right  wing,  and  had 
but  time  to  tell  the  men  to  be  cool  and  not  to  agitate  them- 
selves, when  the  enemy  were  upon  them.  So  sudden  was 
the  onslaught  that  they  could  neither  put  their  helmets  on, 
nor  strip  the  coverings  from  their  shields,  nor  find  their 
places  in  the  ranks.  They  fought  where  they  stood  among 
thick  hedges  which  obstructed  the  sight  of  what  was  pass- 
ing elsewhere.  Though  the  Aduatuci  had  not  come  up, 
the  Nervii  had  allies  with  them  from  Arras  and  the  Somme. 
The  allies  encountered  the  Eighth,  Ninth,  Tenth,  and 
Eleventh  legions,  and  were  driven  rapidly  back  down  the 
hill  through  the  river.  The  Romans,  led  by  Labienus, 
crossed  in  pursuit,  followed  them  into  the  forest,  and  took 
their  camp.  The  Nervii  meanwhile  flung  themselves  with 
all  their  force  on  the  two  legions  on  the  left,  the  Twelfth 
and  Seventh,  enveloped  them  with  their  numbers,  pene- 
trated behind  them,  and  fell  upon  the  baggage  waggons. 
The  light  troops  and  the  camp  followers  fled  in  all  di- 
rections. The  legionaries,  crowded  together  in  confusion, 
were  fighting  at  disadvantage,  and  were  falling  thick  and 


200  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  57 

fast.  A  party  of  horse  from  Treves,  who  had  come  to 
treat  with  Csesar,  thought  that  all  was  lost,  and  rode  off  to 
tell  their  countrymen  that  the  Romans  were  destroyed. 

Caesar,  who  was  in  the  other  wing,  learning  late  what 
was  going  on,  hurried  to  the  scene.  He  found  the  stand- 
ards huddled  together,  the  men  packed  so  close  that  they 
could  not  use  their  swords,  almost  all  of  the  officers  killed 
or  wounded,  and  one  of  the  best  of  them,  Sextius  Baculus 
(Caesar  always  paused  in  his  narrative  to  note  anyone  who 
specially  distinguished  himself),  scarce  able  to  stand. 
Caesar  had  come  up  unarmed.  He  snatched  a  shield  from 
a  soldier,  and,  bare-headed,  flew  to  the  front.  He  was 
known;  he  addressed  the  centurions  by  their  names.  He 
bade  them  open  their  ranks  and  give  the  men  room  to 
strike.  His  presence  and  his  calmness  gave  them  back 
their  confidence.  In  the  worst  extremities  he  observed 
that  soldiers  will  fight  well  under  their  commander's  eye. 
The  cohorts  formed  into  order.  The  enemy  was  checked. 
The  two  legions  from  the  rear,  who  had  learnt  the  danger 
from  the  flying  camp  followers,  came  up.  Labienus,  from 
the  opposite  hill,  saw  what  had  happened,  and  sent  the 
Tenth  legion  back.  All  was  now  changed.  The  fugitives, 
ashamed  of  their  cowardice,  raUied,  and  were  eager  to 
atone  for  it.  The  Nervii  fought  with  a  courage  which 
filled  Caesar  with  admiration — men  of  greater  spirit  he  said 
that  he  had  never  seen.  As  their  first  ranks  fell,  they  piled 
the  bodies  of  their  comrades  into  heaps,  and  from  the 
top  of  them  hurled  back  the  Roman  javelins.  They 
would  not  fly;  they  dropped  where  they  stood;  and  the 
battle  ended  only  with  their  extermination.  Out  of  600 
senators  there  survived  but  three;  out  of  60,000  men  able 
to  bear  arms,  only  500.  The  aged  of  the  tribe,  and  the  wo- 
men and  children  who  had  been  left  in  the  morasses  for 
security,  sent  in  their  surrender,  their  warriors  being  all 
dead.  They  professed  to  fear  lest  they  might  be  destroyed 
by  neighbouring  clans  who  were  on  bad  terms  with  them. 
Caesar  received  them  and  protected  them,  and  gave  severe 
injunctions  that  they  should  suffer  no  injury. 


B.  c.  57]  CAPTURE   OF   NAMUR  201 

By  the  victory  over  the  Nervii  the  Belgian  confederacy 
was    almost    extinguished.     The    German    Aduatuci  re- 
mained only  to  be  brought  to  submission.     They  had  been 
on  their  way  to  join  their  countrymen;  they  were  too  late 
for  the  battle,  and  returned  and  shut  themselves  up  in 
Namur,   the   strongest   position   in   the   Low    Countries. 
Caesar,  after  a  short  rest,  pushed  on  and  came  under  their 
walls.     The  Aduatuci  were  a  race  of  giants,  and  were  at 
first  defiant.     When  they  saw  the  Romans'  siege  towers 
in  preparation,  they  could  not  believe  that  men  so  small 
could  move  such  vast  machines.     When  the  towers  began 
to  approach,  they  lost  heart  and  sued  for  terms.     Caesar 
promised  to  spare  their  lives  and  properties  if  they  sur- 
rendered immediately,  but  he  refused  to  grant  conditions. 
They  had  prayed  to  be  allowed  to  keep  their  arms;  affect- 
ing to  believe,  like  the  Nervii,  that  they  would  be  in  danger 
from  the  Gauls  if  they  were  unable  to  defend  themselves. 
Caesar  undertook  that  they  should  have  no  hurt,  but  he 
insisted  that  their  arms  must  be  given  up.     They  affected 
obedience.     They  flung  their  swords  and  lances  over  the 
walls  till  the  ditch  was  filled  with  them.     They  opened 
their  gates;  the  Romans  occupied  them,  but  were  forbidden 
to  enter,  that  there  might  be  no  plundering.     It  seems  that 
there  was  a  desperate  faction  among  the  Aduatuci  who  had 
been  for  fighting  to  extremity.     A  third  part  of  the  arms 
had  been  secretly  reserved,  and  after  midnight  the  tribe 
sallied  with  all  their  force,  hoping  to  catch  the  Romans 
sleeping.     Caesar  was  not  to  be  surprised  a  second  time. 
Expecting  that  some  such  attempt  might  be  made,  he  had 
prepared  piles  of  fagots  in  convenient  places.     These  bon- 
fires were  set  blazing  in  an  instant.     By  their  red  light  the 
legions  formed;  and,  after  a  desperate  but  unequal  com- 
bat, the  Germans  were  driven  into  the  town  again,  leaving 
4000  dead.     In  the  morning  the  gates  were  broken  down, 
and  Namur  was  taken  without  more  resistance.     Caesar's 
usual  practice  was  gentleness.     He  honoured  brave  men, 
and  never  punished  bold  and  open  opposition.     Of  treach- 
ery he  made  a  severe  example.     Namur  was  condemned. 


202  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  57 

The  Aduatuci  within  its  walls  were  sold  into  slavery,  and 
the  contractors  who  followed  the  army  returned  the  num- 
ber of  prisoners  whom  they  had  purchased  at  53,000. 
Such  captives  were  the  most  valuable  form  of  spoil. 

The  Belgse  were  thus  crushed  as  completely  as  the  Gauls 
had  been  crushed  in  the  previous  year.  Publius  Crassus 
had  meanwhile  made  a  circuit  of  Brittany,  and  had  re- 
ceived the  surrender  of  the  maritime  tribes.  So  great  was 
the  impression  made  by  these  two  campaigns,  that  the 
Germans  beyond  the  Rhine  sent  envoys  with  offers  of  sub- 
mission. The  second  season  was  over.  Caesar  left  the 
legions  in  quarters  about  Chartres,  Orleans,  and  Blois.  He 
himself  returned  to  Italy  again,  where  his  presence  was 
imperatively  required.  The  Senate,  on  the  news  of  his 
successes,  had  been  compelled,  by  public  sentiment,  to  order 
an  extraordinary  thanksgiving;  but  there  were  men  who 
were  anxious  to  prevent  Caesar  from  achieving  any  further 
victories  since  Ariovistus  had  failed  to  destroy  him. 

Notes 

*  Page  177.  Perhaps  in  consequence  of  the  Catiline  conspiracy. 
'Page  181.  "In  Gallia  non  solum  in   omnibus  civitatibus  atque  in 

omnibus  pagis  partibusque  sedpsene  etiamin  singulis  domibus  factiones 
sunt,  earumque  factionum  principes  sunt  qui  summam  auctoritatem 
eorum  judicio  habere  existimantur.  .  .  Hsec  est  ratio  in  summ^  totius 
Gallijae,  namque  omnes  civitates  in  partes  divisse  sunt  duas.  Cum 
Csesar  in  Galliam  venit,  alterius  factionis  principes  erant  Hsedui,  al- 
terius  Sequani," — De  Bello  Gallico,  lib.  vi.  capp.  11,  12. 
'  Page  183.  Even  Dion  Cassius  speaks  of  the  Germans  as  KeXrof. 

*  Page  194.  "Id  se  ab  ipsis  per  eorum  nuntios  compertum  habere, 
quorum  omnium  gratiam  atque  amicitiam  ejus  morte  redimere  posset." 
— De  Bell.  Gall.,  i.  44. 

'  Page  198.  Csesar  thus  records  his  admiration  of  the  Nervian  char- 
acter :  "  Quorum  de  natura  moribusque  Csesar  cum  qusereret  sic  reperi- 
ebat,  nullum  aditum  esse  ad  eos  mercatoribus;  nihil  pati  vini  reliqua- 
rumque  rerum  ad  luxuriam  pertinentium  inferri,  quod  iis  rebus  re- 
languescere  animos  eorum  et  remitti  virtutem  existimarent :  esse 
homines  feros  magnseque  virtutis;  increpitare  atque  incusare  reliquos 
Belgas  qui  se  populo  Romano  dedidissent  patriamque  virtutem  pro- 
jecissent ;  confirmare  sese  neque  legatos  missuros  neque  ullam  con- 
ditionem  pacis  accepturos." — De  Bell.  Gal.,  ii.  15. 


CHAPTER  XV 

BEFORE  his  own  catastrophe,  and  before  he  could 
believe  that  he  was  in  danger,  Cicero  had  discerned 
clearly  the  perils  which  threatened  the  State.  The 
Empire  was  growing  more  extensive.  The  "  Tritons  of 
the  fish-ponds  "  still  held  the  reins;  and  believed  their  own 
supreme  duty  was  to  divide  the  spoils  among  themselves. 
The  pyramid  was  standing  on  its  point.  The  mass  which 
rested  on  it  was  becoming  more  portentous  and  unwieldy. 
The  Senate  was  the  official  power;  the  armies  were  the  real 
power;  and  the  imagination  of  the  Senate  was  that  after 
each  conquest  the  soldiers  would  be  dismissed  back  into 
humble  life  unrewarded,  while  the  noble  lords  took  posses- 
sion of  the  new  acquisitions,  and  added  new  millions  to  their 
fortunes.  All  this  Cicero  knew,  and  yet  he  had  persuaded 
himself  that  it  could  continue  without  bringing  on  a  catas- 
trophe. He  saw  his  fellow  senators  openly  bribed;  he  saw 
the  elections  become  a  mere  matter  of  money.  He  saw 
adventurers  pushing  themselves  into  office  by  steeping 
themselves  in  debt,  and  paying  their  debts  by  robbing  the 
provincials.  He  saw  these  high-born  scoundrels  coming 
home  loaded  with  treasure,  buying  lands  and  building 
palaces,  and,  when  brought  to  trial,  purchasing  the  con- 
sciences of  their  judges.  Yet  he  had  considered  such 
phenomena  as  the  temporary  accidents  of  a  constitution 
which  was  still  the  best  that  could  be  conceived,  and  every- 
one that  doubted  the  excellence  of  it  he  had  come  to  regard 
as  an  enemy  of  mankind.  So  long  as  there  was  free  speech 
in  Senate  and  platform  for  orators  like  himself,  all  would 
soon  be  well  again.  Had  not  he,  a  mere  country  gentle- 
man's son,  risen  under  it  to  wealth  and  consideration?  and 
was  not  his  own  rise  a  sufficient  evidence  that  there  was  no 

203 


204  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  57 

real  injustice?  Party  struggles  were  over,  or  had  no  ex- 
cuse for  continuance.  Sylla's  constitution  had  been  too 
narrowly  aristocratic.  But  Sylla's  invidious  laws  had  been 
softened  by  compromise.  The  tribunes  had  recovered 
their  old  privileges.  The  highest  offices  of  State  were  open 
to  the  meanest  citizen  who  was  qualified  for  them.  Indi- 
viduals of  merit  might  have  been  kept  back  for  a  time  by 
jealousy;  the  Senate  had  too  long  objected  to  the  pro- 
motion of  Pompey;  but  their  opposition  had  been 
overcome  by  purely  constitutional  means.  The  great 
general  had  obtained  his  command  by  land  and  sea;  he, 
Cicero,  having  by  eloquent  speech  proved  to  the  people 
that  he  ought  to  be  nominated.  What  could  anyone  wish 
for  more?  And  yet  Senate  and  Forum  were  still  filled  with 
faction,  quarrel,  and  discontent!  One  interpretation  only 
Cicero  had  been  able  to  place  on  such  a  phenomenon.  In 
Rome,  as  in  all  great  communities,  there  were  multitudes 
of  dissolute,  ruined  wretches,  the  natural  enemies  of  prop- 
erty and  order.  Bankrupt  members  of  the  aristocracy  had 
lent  themselves  to  these  people  as  their  leaders,  and  had 
been  the  cause  of  all  the  trouble  of  the  past  years.  If  such 
renegades  to  their  order  could  be  properly  discouraged  or 
extinguished,  Cicero  had  thought  that  there  would  be 
nothing  more  to  desire.  Catiline  he  had  himself  made  an 
end  of  to  his  own  immortal  glory,  but  now  Catiline  had 
revived  in  Clodius;  and  Clodius,  so  far  from  being  discour- 
aged, was  petted  and  encouraged  by  responsible  statesmen 
who  ought  to  have  known  better.  Caesar  had  employed 
him;  Crassus  had  employed  him;  even  Pompey  had  stooped 
to  connect  himself  with  the  scandalous  young  incendiary, 
and  had  threatened  to  call  in  the  army  if  the  Senate  at- 
tempted to  repeal  Caesar's  iniquitous  laws.^  Still  more  in- 
explicable was  the  ingratitude  of  the  aristocracy  and  their 
friends,  the  ''  boni  "  or  good — the  '^  Conservatives  of  the 
State,"  ^  as  Cicero  still  continued  to  call  Caesar's  op- 
ponents. He  respected  them;  he  loved  them;  he  had  done 
more  for  their  cause  than  any  single  man  in  the  Empire; 
and  yet  they  had  never  recognised  his  services  by  word  or 


B.  c.  57]  CICERO  AND  CLODIUS  20$ 

deed.  He  had  felt  tempted  to  throw  up  public  life  in  dis- 
gust, and  retire  to  privacy  and  philosophy. 

So  Cicero  had  construed  the  situation  before  his  exile, 
and  he  had  construed  it  ill.  If  he  had  wished  to  retire  he 
could  not.  He  had  been  called  to  account  for  the  part  of 
his  conduct  for  which  he  most  admired  himself.  The  un- 
gracious Senate,  as  guilty  as  he,  if  guilt  there  had  been,  had 
left  him  to  bear  the  blame  of  it,  and  he  saw  himself  driven 
into  banishment  by  an  insolent  reprobate,  a  patrician 
turned  Radical  and  demagogue,  Publius  Clodius.  In- 
dignity could  be  carried  no  farther. 

Clodius  is  the  most  extraordinary  figure  in  this  extraor- 
dinary period.  He  had  no  character.  He  had  no  distin- 
guished talent  save  for  speech;  he  had  no  policy;  he  was 
ready  to  adopt  any  cause  or  person  which  for  the  moment 
was  convenient  to  him;  and  yet  for  five  years  this  man  was 
the  omnipotent  leader  of  the  Roman  mob.  He  could  defy 
justice,  insult  the  consuls,  beat  the  tribunes,  parade  the 
streets  with  a  gang  of  armed  slaves,  killing  persons  dis- 
agreeable to  him,  and  in  the  Senate  itself  he  had  his  high 
friends  and  connections  who  threw  a  shield  over  him  when 
his  audacity  had  gone  beyond  endurance.  We  know 
Clodius  only  from  Cicero;  and  a  picture  of  him  from  a 
second  hand  might  have  made  his  position  more  intelligi- 
ble, if  not  more  reputable.  Even  in  Rome  it  is  scarcely 
credible  that  the  Clodius  of  Cicero  could  have  played  such 
a  part,  or  that  the  death  of  such  a  man  should  have  been 
regarded  as  a  national  calamity.  Cicero  says  that  Clodius 
revived  Catiline's  faction;  but  what  was  Catiline's  faction? 
or  how  came  Catiline  to  have  a  faction  which  survived 
him? 

Be  this  as  it  may,  Clodius  had  banished  Cicero,  and  had 
driven  him  away  over  the  seas  to  Greece,  there,  for  sixteen 
months,  to  weary  Heaven  and  his  friends  with  his  lamen- 
tations. Cicero  had  refused  Caesar's  offered  friendship; 
Caesar  had  not  cared  to  leave  so  powerful  a  person  free  to 
support  the  intended  attacks  on  his  legislation,  and  had 
permitted,    perhaps    had     encouraged,    the    prosecution. 


206  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  57 

Cicero  out  of  the  way,  the  second  person  whose  presence 
in  Rome  Caesar  thought  might  be  inconvenient,  Marcus 
Cato,  had  been  got  rid  of  by  a  process  still  more  ingenious. 
The  aristocracy  pretended  that  the  acts  of  Caesar's  consul- 
ship had  been  invalid  through  disregard  of  the  interdic- 
tions of  Bibulus;  and  one  of  those  acts  had  been  the  re- 
duction of  Clodius  to  the  order  of  plebeians.  If  none  of 
them  were  valid,  Clodius  was  not  legally  tribune,  and  no 
commission  which  Clodius  might  confer  through  the  people 
would  have  validity.  A  service  was  discovered  by  which 
Cato  was  tempted,  and  which  he  was  induced  to  accept  at 
Clodius's  hands.  Thus  he  was  at  once  removed  from  the 
city,  and  it  was  no  longer  open  to  him  to  deny  that  Caesar's 
laws  had  been  properly  passed.  The  work  on  which  he 
was  sent  deserves  a  few  words.  The  kingdom  of  Cyprus 
had  long  been  attached  to  the  crown  of  Egypt.  Ptolemy 
Alexander,  dying  in  the  year  80,  had  bequeathed  both 
Egypt  and  Cyprus  to  Rome;  but  the  Senate  had  delayed  to 
enter  on  their  bequest,  preferring  to  share  the  fines  which 
Ptolemy's  natural  heirs  were  required  to  pay  for  being 
spared.  One  of  these  heirs,  Ptolemy  Auletes,  or  ''  the 
Piper,"  father  of  the  famous  Cleopatra,  was  now  reigning 
in  Egypt,  and  was  on  the  point  of  being  expelled  by  his 
subjects.  He  had  been  driven  to  extortion  to  raise  a  sub- 
sidy for  the  senators,  and  he  had  made  himself  universally 
abhorred.  Ptolemy  of  Cyprus  had  been  a  better  sover- 
eign, but  a  less  prudent  client.  He  had  not  overtaxed  his 
people;  he  had  kept  his  money.  Clodius,  if  Cicero's  story 
is  true,  had  a  private  grudge  against  him.  Clodius  had 
fallen  among  Cyprian  pirates.  Ptolemy  had  not  exerted 
himself  for  his  release,  and  he  had  suffered  unmentionable 
indignities.  At  all  events,  the  unfortunate  king  was  rich, 
and  was  unwilling  to  give  what  was  expected  of  him. 
Clodius,  on  the  plea  that  the  king  of  Cyprus  protected 
pirates,  persuaded  the  Assembly  to  vote  the  annexation  of 
the  island;  and  Cato,  of  all  men,  was  prevailed  on  by  the 
mocking  tribune  to  carry  out  the  resolution.  He  was  well 
pleased  with  his  mission,  though  he  wished  it  to  appear  to 


B.  c.  57]  CLODIUS  AND  TRIBUNE  20/ 

be  forced  upon  him.  Ptolemy  poisoned  himself;  Cato 
earned  the  glory  of  adding  a  new  province  to  the  Empire, 
and  did  not  return  for  two  years,  when  he  brought  7000 
talents — a  million  and  a  half  of  English  money — to  the 
Roman  treasury. 

Cicero  and  Cato  being  thus  put  out  of  the  way — Caesar 
being  absent  in  Gaul,  and  Pompey  looking  on  without 
interfering — Clodius  had  amused  himself  with  legislation. 
He  gratified  his  corrupt  friends  in  the  Senate  by  again 
abolishing  the  censor's  power  to  expel  them.  He  restored 
cheap  corn  establishments  in  the  city — the  most  demoral- 
izing of  all  the  measures  which  the  democracy  had  intro- 
duced to  swell  their  numbers.  He  re-established  the 
political  clubs,  which  were  hot-beds  of  distinctive  Radical- 
ism. He  took  away  the  right  of  separate  magistrates  to  lay 
their  vetos  on  the  votes  of  the  sovereign  people,  and  he  took 
from  the  Senate  such  power  as  they  still  possessed  of  regu- 
lating the  government  of  the  Provinces,  and  passed  it  over 
to  the  Assembly.  These  resolutions,  w^hich  reduced  the  ad- 
ministration to  a  chaos,  he  induced  the  people  to  decree  by 
irresistible  majorities.  One  measure  only  he  passed  which 
deserved  commendation,  though  Clodius  deserved  none 
for  introducing  it.  He  put  an  end  to  the  impious  pretence 
of  "  observing  the  heavens,"  of  which  Conservative  officials 
had  availed  themselves  to  obstruct  unwelcome  motions. 
Some  means  were,  no  doubt,  necessary  to  check  the  pre- 
cipitate passions  of  the  mob;  but  not  means  which  turned 
into  mockery  the  slight  surviving  remnants  of  ancient  Ro- 
man reverence. 

In  general  politics  the  young  tribune  had  no  definite 
predilections.  He  had  threatened  at  one  time  to  repeal 
Caesar's  laws  himself.  He  attacked  alternately  the  chiefs 
of  the  army  and  of  the  Senate,  and  the  people  let  him  do 
what  he  pleased  without  withdrawing  their  confidence 
from  him.  He  went  everywhere  spreading  terror  with  his 
body-guard  of  slaves.  He  quarrelled  with  the  consuls, 
beat  their  lictors,  and  wounded  Gabinius  himself.  Pom- 
pey professed  to  be  in  alarm  for  his  life,  and  to  be  unable 


208  ^  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  57 

to  appear  in  the  streets.  The  state  of  Rome  at  this  time 
has  been  well  described  by  a  modern  historian  as  a  ''  Wal- 
purgis  dance  of  political  witches."  ^ 

Clodius  was  a  licensed  libertine;  but  Hcense  has  its  limits. 
He  had  been  useful  so  far;  but  a  rein  was  wanted  for  him, 
and  Pompey  decided  at  last  that  Cicero  might  now  be  re- 
called. Clodius's  term  of  office  ran  out.  The  tribunes 
for  the  new  year  were  well  disposed  to  Cicero.  The  new 
consuls  were  Lentulus,  a  moderate  aristocrat,  and  Cicero's 
personal  friend;  and  Metellus  Nepos,  who  would  do  what 
Pompey  told  him.  Caesar  had  been  consulted  by  letter 
and  had  given  his  assent.  Cicero,  it  might  be  thought, 
had  learnt  his  lesson,  and  there  was  no  desire  of  protracting 
his  penance.  There  were  still  difficulties,  however.  Cicero, 
smarting  from  wrath  and  mortification,  was  more  angry 
with  the  aristocrats,  who  had  deserted  him,  than  with  his 
open  enemies.  His  most  intimate  companions,  he  bitterly 
said,  had  been  false  to  him.  He  was  looking  regretfully 
on  Caesar's  offers,*  and  cursing  his  folly  for  having  rejected 
them.  The  people,  too,  would  not  sacrifice  their  convictions 
at  the  first  bidding  for  the  convenience  of  their  leaders;  and 
had  neither  forgotten  nor  forgiven  the  killing  of  the  Cati- 
line conspirators;  while  Cicero,  aware  of  the  efforts  which 
were  being  made,  had  looked  for  new  allies  in  an  impru- 
dent quarter.  His  chosen  friend  on  the  Conservative  side 
was  now  Annius  Milo,  one  of  the  new  tribunes,  a  man  as 
disreputable  as  Clodius  himself;  deep  in  debt  and  looking 
for  a  province  to  indemnify  himself — famous  hitherto  in 
the  schools  of  gladiators,  in  whose  arts  he  was  a  profi- 
cient, and  whose  services  were  at  his  disposal  for  any  law- 
less purpose. 

A  decree  of  banishment  could  only  be  recalled  by  the 
people  who  had  pronounced  it.  Clodius,  though  no  longer 
in  office,  was  still  the  idol  of  the  mob ;  and  two  of  the  trib- 
unes, who  were  at  first  well  inclined  to  Cicero,  had  been 
gained  over  by  him.  As  early  as  possible,  on  the  first  day 
of  the  new  year,  Lentulus  Spinther  brought  Cicero's  case 
before  the  Senate.     A  tribune  reminded  him  of  a  clause 


B.  c.  57]  FIGHT   IN   THE   FORUM  209 

attached  to  the  sentence  of  exile,  that  no  citizen  should  in 
future  move  for  its  repeal.  The  Senate  hesitated,  per- 
haps catching  at  the  excuse;  but  at  length,  after  repeated 
adjournments,  they  voted  that  the  question  should  be  pro- 
posed to  the  Assembly.  The  day  fixed  was  the  25th  of 
January.  In  anticipation  of  a  riot  the  temples  on  the 
Forum  were  occupied  with  guards.  The  Forum  itself  and 
the  Senate-house  were  in  possession  of  Clodius  and  his 
gang.  Clodius  maintained  that  the  proposal  to  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  people  was  itself  illegal,  and  ought  to  be 
resisted  by  force.  Fabricius,  one  of  the  tribunes,  had  been 
selected  to  introduce  it.  When  Fabricius  presented  him- 
self on  the  Rostra,  there  was  a  general  rush  to  throw  him 
down.  The  Forum  was  in  theory  still  a  sacred  spot,  where 
the  carrying  of  arms  was  forbidden;  but  the  new  age  had 
forgotten  such  obsolete  superstitions.  The  guards  issued 
out  of  the  temples  with  drawn  swords.  The  people  were 
desperate  and  determined.  Hundreds  were  killed  on  both 
sides;  Quintus  Cicero,  who  was  present  for  his  brother, 
narrowly  escaping  with  his  life.  The  Tiber,  Cicero  says — 
perhaps  with  some  exaggeration — was  covered  with  float- 
ing bodies;  the  sewers  were  choked,  the  bloody  area  of  the 
Forum  had  to  be  washed  with  sponges.  Such  a  day  had 
not  been  seen  in  Rome  since  the  fight  between  Cinna  and 
Octavius.^  The  mob  remained  masters  of  the  field,  and 
Cicero's  cause  had  to  wait  for  better  times.  Milo  had  been 
active  in  the  combat,  and  Clodius  led  his  victorious  bands 
to  Milo's  house  to  destroy  it.  Milo  brought  an  action 
against  him  for  violence;  but  Clodius  was  charmed  even 
against  forms  of  law.  There  was  no  censor  as  yet  chosen, 
and  without  a  censor  the  praetors  pretended  that  they  could 
not  entertain  the  prosecution.  Finding  law  powerless,  Milo 
imitated  his  antagonist.  He,  too,  had  his  band  of  gladia- 
tors about  him;  and  the  streets  of  the  Capitol  were  enter- 
tained daily  by  fights  between  the  factions  of  Clodius  and 
Milo.  The  Commonwealth  of  the  Scipios,  the  laws  and  in- 
stitutions of  the  mistress  of  the  civilized  world,  had  become 
the  football  of  ruffians.  Time  and  reflection  brought  some 
14 


210  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  57 

repentance  at  last.  Toward  the  summer  "  the  cause  of 
order  "  rallied.  The  consuls  and  Pompey  exerted  them- 
selves to  reconcile  the  more  respectable  citizens  to  Cicero's 
return;  and,  with  the  ground  better  prepared,  the  attempt 
was  renewed  with  more  success.  In  July  the  recall  was 
again  proposed  in  the  Senate,  and  Clodius  was  alone  in 
opposing  it.  When  it  was  laid  before  the  Assembly, 
Clodius  made  another  effort;  but  voters  had  been  brought 
up  from  other  parts  of  Italy  who  outnumbered  the  city 
rabble;  Milo  and  his  gladiators  were  in  force  to  prevent 
another  burst  of  violence ;  and  the  great  orator  and  states- 
man was  given  back  to  his  country.  Sixteen  months  he 
had  been  lamenting  himself  in  Greece,  bewailing  his  per- 
sonal ill-treatment.  He  was  the  single  object  of  his  own 
reflections.  In  his  own  most  sincere  convictions  he  was 
the  centre  on  which  the  destinies  of  Rome  revolved.  He 
landed  at  Brindisi  on  the  5th  of  August.  His  pardon  had 
not  yet  been  decreed,  though  he  knew  that  it  was  coming. 
The  happy  news  arrived  in  a  day  or  two,  and  he  set  out  in 
triumph  for  Rome.  The  citizens  of  Brindisi  paid  him  their 
compliments;  deputations  came  to  congratulate  from  all 
parts  of  Italy.  Outside  the  city  every  man  of  note  of  all 
the  orders,  save  a  few  of  his  declared  enemies,  was  waiting 
to  receive  him.  The  roofs  and  steps  of  the  temples  were 
thronged  with  spectators.  Crowds  attended  him  to  the 
Capitol,  where  he  went  to  pour  out  his  gratitude  to  the 
gods,  and  welcomed  him  home  with  shouts  of  applause. 

Had  he  been  wise  he  would  have  seen  that  the  rejoicing 
was  from  the  lips  outwards;  that  fine  words  were  not  gold; 
that  Rome  and  its  factions  were  just  where  he  had  left 
them,  or  had  descended  one  step  lower.  But  Cicero  was 
credulous  of  flattery  when  it  echoed  his  own  opinions  about 
himself.  The  citizens,  he  persuaded  himself,  were  penitent 
for  their  ingratitude  to  the  most  illustrious  of  their  coun- 
trymen. The  acclamations  filled  him  with  the  delighted 
belief  that  he  was  to  resume  his  place  at  the  head  of  the 
State;  and,  as  he  could  not  forgive  his  disgrace,  his  first 
object  in  the  midst  of  his  triumphs  was  to  revenge  himself 


B.  c.  57]  THE   RETURN   OF  CICERO  211 

on  those  who  had  caused  it.  Speeches  of  acknowledg- 
ment he  had  naturally  to  make  both  to  the  Senate  and  the 
Assembly.  In  addressing  the  people  he  was  moderately 
prudent;  he  glanced  at  the  treachery  of  his  friends,  but  he 
did  not  make  too  much  of  it.  He  praised  his  own  good 
qualities,  but  not  extravagantly.  He  described  Pompey 
as  "  the  wisest,  best,  and  greatest  of  all  men  that  had  been, 
were,  or  ever  would  be."  Himself  he  compared  to  Marius 
returning  also  from  undeserved  exile,  and  he  delicately 
spoke  in  honour  of  a  name  most  dear  to  the  Roman  plebs. 
But  he,  he  said,  unlike  Marius,  had  no  enemies  but  the 
enemies  of  his  country.  He  had  no  retaliation  to  demand 
for  his  own  wrongs.  If  he  punished  bad  citizens,  it  would 
be  by  doing  well  himself;  if  he  punished  false  friends,  it 
would  be  by  never  again  trusting  them.  His  first  and  his 
last  object  would  be  to  show  his  gratitude  to  his  fellow- 
citizens.^ 

Such  language  was  rational  and  moderate.  He  under- 
stood his  audience,  and  he  kept  his  tongue  under  a  bridle. 
But  his  heart  was  burning  in  him;  and  what  he  could  not 
say  in  the  Forum  he  thought  he  might  venture  on  with  im- 
punity in  the  Senate,  which  might  be  called  his  own  dung- 
hill. His  chief  wrath  was  at  the  late  consuls.  They  were 
both  powerful  men.  Gabinius  was  Pompey's  chief  sup- 
porter. Calpurnius  Piso  was  Caesar's  father-in-law.  Both 
had  been  named  to  the  government  of  important  prov- 
inces; and,  if  authority  was  not  to  be  brought  into  con- 
tempt, they  deserved  at  least  a  show  of  outward  respect. 
Cicero  lived  to  desire  their  friendship,  to  affect  a  value  for 
them,  and  to  regret  his  violence,  but  they  had  consented 
to  his  exile;  and  careless  of  decency,  and  oblivious  of  the 
chances  of  the  future,  he  used  his  opportunity  to  burst  out 
upon  them  in  language  in  which  the  foulest  rufifian  in  the 
streets  would  have  scarcely  spoken  of  the  first  magistrates 
of  the  Republic.  Piso  and  Gabinius,  he  said,  were  thieves, 
not  consuls.  They  had  been  friends  of  Catiline,  and  had 
been  enemies  to  himself,  because  he  had  bafifled  the  con- 
spiracy.    Piso  could  not  pardon  the  death  of  Cethegus. 


212  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  57 

Gabinius  regretted  in  Catiline  himself  the  loss  of  his  lover/ 
Gabinius,  he  said,  had  been  licentious  in  his  youth;  he  had 
ruined  his  fortune;  he  had  suppHed  his  extravagance  by 
pimping;  and  had  escaped  his  creditors  only  by  becoming 
a  tribune.  "  Behold  him,"  Cicero  said,  ''  as  he  appeared 
when  consul  at  a  meeting  called  by  the  arch  thief  Clodius^ 
full  of  wine,  and  sleep,  and  fornication,  his  hair  moist,  his 
eyes  heavy,  his  cheeks  flaccid,  and  declaring,  with  a  voice 
thick  with  drink,  that  he  disapproved  of  putting  citizens 
to  death  without  trial."  *  As  to  Piso,  his  best  recommenda- 
tion was  a  cunning  gravity  of  demeanour,  conceaHng  mere 
vacuity.  Piso  knew  nothing — neither  law,  nor  rhetoric, 
nor  war,  nor  his  fellow  men.  ''  His  face  was  the  face  of 
some  half-human  brute."  "  He  was  like  a  negro,  a  thing 
(negotium)  without  sense  or  savour,  a  Cappadocian  picked 
out  of  a  drove  in  the  slave  market."  ® 

Cicero  was  not  taking  the  best  means  to  regain  his  in- 
fluence in  the  Senate  by  stooping  to  vulgar  brutality.  He 
cannot  be  excused  by  the  manners  of  the  age;  his  violence 
was  the  violence  of  a  fluent  orator  whose  temper  ran  away 
with  him,  and  who  never  resisted  the  temptation  to  insult 
an  opponent.  It  did  not  answer  with  him;  he  thought  he 
was  to  be  chief  of  the  Senate,  and  the  most  honoured  per- 
son in  the  State  again;  he  found  that  he  had  been  allowed 
to  return  only  to  be  surrounded  by  mosquitos  whose  de- 
light was  to  sting  him,  while  the  Senate  listened  with  in- 
difference or  secret  amusement.  He  had  been  promised 
the  restoration  of  his  property;  but  he  had  a  suit  to  prose- 
cute before  he  could  get  it.  Clodius  had  thought  to  make 
sure  of  his  Roman  palace,  by  dedicating  it  to  ''  Liberty." 
Cicero  challenged  the  consecration.  It  was  referred  to 
the  College  of  Priests,  and  the  College  returned  a  judg- 
ment in  Cicero's  favour.  The  Senate  voted  for  the  res- 
toration. They  voted  sums  for  the  rebuilding  both  of  the 
palace  on  the  Palatine  Hill  and  of  the  other  villas,  at  the 
public  expense.  But  the  grant  in  Cicero's  opinion  was  a 
stingy  one.  He  saw  too  painfully  that  those  "  who  had 
clipped  his  wings  did  not  mean  them  to  grow  again."  ^^ 


B.  c.  57]  CICERO  AND   CLODIUS  213 

Milo  and  his  gladiators  were  not  sufficient  support,  and  if 
he  meant  to  recover  his  old  power  he  found  that  he  must 
look  for  stronger  allies.  Pompey  had  not  used  him  well; 
Pompey  had  promised  to  defend  him  from  Clodius,  and 
Pompey  had  left  him  to  his  fate.  But  by  going  with  Pom- 
pey he  could  at  least  gall  the  Senate.  An  opportunity 
offered,  and  he  caught  at  it.  There  was  a  corn  famine  in 
Rome.  Clodius  had  promised  the  people  cheap  bread, 
but  there  was  no  bread  to  be  had.  The  hungry  mob 
howled  about  the  Senate-house,  threatening  fire  and  mas- 
sacre. The  great  capitalists  and  contractors  were  believed 
to  be  at  their  old  work.  There  was  a  cry,  as  in  the 
"pirate  "  days,  for  some  strong  man  to  see  to  them  and 
their  misdoings.  Pompey  was  needed  again.  He  had 
been  too  much  forgotten,  and  with  Cicero's  help  a  decree 
was  carried  which  gave  Pompey  control  over  the  whole 
corn  trade  of  the  Empire  for  five  years. 

This  was  something,  and  Pompey  was  gratified;  but 
without  an  army  Pompey  could  do  little  against  the  roughs 
in  the  streets,  and  Cicero's  house  became  the  next  battle- 
ground. The  Senate  had  voted  it  to  its  owner  again,  and 
the  masons  and  carpenters  were  set  to  work;  but  the  sov- 
ereign p:ople  had  not  been  consulted.  Clodius  was  now 
but  a  private  citizen;  but  private  citizens  might  resist  sac- 
rilege if  the  magistrates  forgot  their  duty.  He  marched 
to  the  Palatine  with  his  gang.  He  drove  out  the  work- 
men, broke  down  the  walls,  and  wrecked  the  adjoining 
house  which  belonged  to  Cicero's  brother  Quintus.  The 
next  day  he  set  on  Cicero  himself  in  the  Via  Sacra,  and 
nearly  murdered  him,  and  he  afterwards  tried  to  burn  the 
house  of  Milo.  Consuls  and  tribunes  did  not  interfere. 
They  were,  perhaps,  frightened.  The  Senate  professed  re- 
gret, and  it  was  proposed  to  prosecute  Clodius;  but  his 
friends  were  too  strong,  and  it  could  not  be  done.  Could 
Cicero  have  wrung  his  neck,  as  he  had  wrung  the  necks  of 
Lentulus  and  Cethegus,  Rome  and  he  would  have  had  a 
good  deliverance.  Failing  this,  he  might  wisely  have 
waited  for  the  law,  which  in  time  must  have  helped  him. 


214  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  57 

But  he  let  himself  down  to  Clodius's  level.  He  railed  at 
him  in  the  Curia  as  he  had  railed  at  Gabinius  and  Piso. 
He  ran  over  his  history;  he  taunted  him  with  incest  with 
his  sister,  and  with  filthy  relations  with  vulgar  millionaires. 
He  accused  him  of  having  sold  himself  to  Catiline,  of  hav- 
ing forged  wills,  murdered  the  heirs  of  estates  and  stolen 
their  property,  of  having  murdered  officers  of  the  Treasury 
and  seized  the  public  money,  of  having  outraged  gods  and 
men,  decency,  equity,  and  law;  of  having  suffered  every 
abomination  and  committed  every  crime  of  which  human 
nature  was  capable.  So  Cicero  spoke  in  Clodius's  own 
hearing  and  in  the  hearing  of  his  friends.  It  never  occurred 
to  him  that  if  half  these  crimes  could  be  proved,  a  Com- 
monwealth in  which  such  a  monster  could  rise  to  conse- 
quence was  not  a  Commonwealth  at  all,  but  a  frightful 
mockery,  which  he  and  every  honest  man  were  called  on  to 
abhor.  Instead  of  scolding  and  flinging  impotent  filth, 
he  should  have  withdrawn  out  of  public  life  when  he 
could  only  remain  in  it  among  such  companions,  or  should 
have  attached  himself  with  all  his  soul  to  those  who  had 
will  and  power  to  mend  it. 

Clodius  was  at  this  moment  the  popular  candidate  for 
the  aedileship,  the  second  step  on  the  road  to  the  consul- 
ship. He  was  a  favourite  of  the  mob.  He  was  supported 
by  his  brother  Appius  Claudius,  the  praetor,  and  the  cli- 
entele of  the  great  Claudian  family;  and  Cicero's  denuncia- 
tions of  him  had  not  affected  in  the  least  his  chances  of 
success.  If  Clodius  was  to  be  defeated,  other  means  were 
needed  than  a  statement  in  the  Senate  that  the  aspirant  to 
public  honours  was  a  wretch  unfit  to  live.  The  election 
was  fixed  for  the  i8th  of  November,  and  was  to  be  held  in 
the  Campus  Martins.  Milo  and  his  gladiators  took  pos- 
session of  the  polling-place  in  the  night,  and  the  votes 
could  not  be  taken.  The  Assembly  met  the  next  day  in 
the  Forum,  but  was  broken  up  by  violence,  and  Clodius 
had  still  to  wait.  The  political  witch  dance  was  at  its 
height,  and  Cicero  was  in  his  glory.  "  The  elections,"  he 
wrote  to  Atticus,  "  will  not,  I  think,  be  held;  and  Clodius 


B.  c.  57]  PTOLEMY  AULETES  21 5 

will  be  prosecuted  by  Milo  unless  he  is  first  killed.  Milo 
will  kill  him  if  he  falls  in  with  him.  He  is  not  afraid  to 
do  it,  and  he  says  openly  that  he  will  do  it.  He  is  not 
frightened  at  the  misfortune  which  fell  on  me.  He  is  not 
the  man  to  listen  to  traitorous  friends  or  to  trust  indolent 
patricians."  ^^ 

With  recovered  spirits  the  Senate  began  again  to  attack 
the  laws  of  Caesar  and  Clodius  as  irregular;  but  they  were 
met  with  the  difficulty  which  Clodius  had  provided.  Cato 
had  come  back  from  Cyprus,  delighted  with  his  exploit 
and  with  himself,  and  bringing  a  ship-load  of  money  with 
him  for  the  public  treasury.  If  the  laws  were  invalidated 
by  the  disregard  of  Bibulus  and  the  signs  of  the  sky,  then 
the  Cyprus  mission  had  been  invalid  also,  and  Cato's  fine 
performance  void.  Caesar's  grand  victories,  the  news  of 
which  was  now  coming  in,  made  it  inopportune  to  press 
the  matter  farther;  and  just  then  another  subject  rose,  on 
which  the  Optimates  ran  off  like  hounds  upon  a  fresh 
scent. 

Ptolemy  of  Cyprus  had  been  disposed  of.  Ptolemy 
Auletes  had  been  preserved  on  the  throne  of  Egypt  by  sub- 
sidies to  the  chiefs  of  the  Senate.  But  his  subjects  had 
been  hardly  taxed  to  raise  the  money.  The  Cyprus  affair 
had  further  exasperated  them,  and  when  Ptolemy  laid  on 
fresh  impositions  the  Alexandrians  mutinied  and  drove  him 
out.  His  misfortunes  being  due  to  his  friends  at  Rome, 
he  came  thither  to  beg  the  Romans  to  replace  him.  The 
Senate  agreed  unanimously  that  he  must  be  restored  to 
his  throne.  But  then  the  question  rose,  who  should  be  the 
happy  person  who  was  to  be  the  instrument  of  his  rein- 
statement? Alexandria  was  rich.  An  enormous  fine 
could  be  exacted  for  the  rebellion,  besides  what  might  be 
demanded  from  Ptolemy's  gratitude.  No  prize  so  splen- 
did had  yet  been  offered  to  Roman  avarice,  and  the  pa- 
tricians quarrelled  over  it  like  jackals  over  a  bone.  Len- 
tulus  Spinther,  the  late  consul,  was  now  governor  of 
Cilicia;  Gabinius  was  governor  of  Syria;  and  each  of  these 
had  their  advocates.     Cicero  and  the  respectable  Conserva- 


2l6  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  57 

tives  were  for  Spinther;  Pompey  was  for  Gabinius.  Others 
wished  Pompey  himself  to  go;  others  wished  for 
Crassus. 

Meanwhile,  the  poor  Egyptians  themselves  claimed  a 
right  to  be  heard  in  protest  against  the  reimposition  upon 
them  of  a  sovereign  who  had  made  himself  abhorred. 
Why  was  Ptolemy  to  be  forced  on  them?  A  hundred  of 
the  principal  Alexandrians  came  to  Italy  with  a  remon- 
strance; and  had  they  brought  money  with  them  they 
might  have  had  a  respectable  hearing.  But  they  had 
brought  none  or  not  enough,  and  Ptolemy,  secure  in  his 
patrons'  support,  hired  a  party  of  banditti,  who  set  on  the 
deputation  when  it  landed,  and  killed  the  greater  part  of 
its  members.  Dion,  the  leader  of  the  embassy,  escaped  for 
a  time.  There  was  still  a  small  party  among  the  aristoc- 
racy (Cato  and  Cato's  followers)  who  had  a  conscience  in 
such  things;  and  Favonius,  one  of  them,  took  up  Dion's 
cause.  Envoys  from  allied  sovereigns  or  provinces,  he 
said,  were  continually  being  murdered.  Noble  lords  re- 
ceived hush-money,  and  there  had  been  no  inquiry.  Such 
things  happened  too  often,  and  ought  to  be  stopped.  The 
Senate  voted  decently  to  send  for  Dion  and  examine  him. 
But  Favonius  was  privately  laughed  at  as  '^  Cato's  ape  "; 
the  unfortunate  Dion  was  made  away  with,  and  Pompey 
took  Ptolemy  into  his  own  house  and  openly  entertained 
him  there.  Pompey  would  himself  perhaps  have  under- 
taken the  restoration,  but  the  Senate  was  jealous.  His 
own  future  was  growing  uncertain;  and  eventually,  with- 
out asking  for  a  consent  which  the  Senate  would  have  re- 
fused to  give,  he  sent  his  guest  to  Syria  with  a  charge  to  his 
friend  Gabinius  to  take  him  back  on  his  own  responsi- 
bility.^' 

The  kilHng  of  envoys  and  the  taking  of  hush-money  by 
senators  were,  as  Favonius  had  said,  too  common  to  at- 
tract much  notice;  but  the  affair  of  Ptolemy,  like  that  of 
Jugurtha,  had  obtained  an  infamous  notoriety.  The  Sen- 
ate was  execrated.  Pompey  himself  fell  in  public  esteem. 
His  overseership  of  the  granaries  had  as  yet  brought  in 


B.  c.  57-56]  CLODIUS  CHOSEN  .EDILE  21/ 

no  corn.  He  had  been  too  busy  over  the  Egyptian  mat- 
ter to  attend  to  it.  Clearly  enough  therje  would  now  have 
been  a  revolution  in  Rome,  but  for  the  physical  force  of  the 
upper  classes  with  their  bands  of  slaves  and  clients. 

The  year  of  Milo's  tribunate  being  over,  Clodius  was 
chosen  gedile  without  further  trouble;  and,  instead  of  being 
the  victim  of  a  prosecution,  he  at  once  impeached  Milo  for 
the  interruption  of  the  Comitia  on  the  i8th  of  November. 
Milo  appeared  to  answer  on  the  2d  of  February;  but  there 
was  another  riot,  and  the  meeting  was  broken  up.  On  the 
6th  the  court  was  again  held.  The  crowd  was  enormous. 
Cicero  happily  has  left  a  minute  account  of  the  scene.  The 
people  were  starving,  the  corn  question  was  pressing. 
Milo  presented  himself,  and  Pompey  came  forward  on  the 
Rostra  to  speak.  He  was  received  with  howls  and  curses 
from  Clodius's  hired  ruffians,  and  his  voice  could  not  be 
heard  for  the  noise.  Pompey  held  on  undaunted,  and 
commanded  occasional  silence  by  the  weight  of  his  pres- 
ence. Clodius  rose  when  Pompey  had  done,  and  rival 
yells  went  up  from  the  Milonians.  Yells  were  not  enough; 
filthy  verses  were  sung  in  chorus  about  Clodius  and  Clodia, 
ribald  bestiality,  delightful  to  the  ears  of  ''  Tully."  Clo- 
dius, pale  with  anger,  called  out,  ''  Who  is  murdering  the 
people  with  famine? "  A  thousand  throats  answered, 
"Pompey!"  ''Who  wants  to  go  to  Alexandria?" 
"Pompey!"  they  shouted  again.  "And  whom  do  you 
want  to  go?"  "Crassus!"  they  cried.  Passion  had 
risen  too  high  for  words.  The  Clodians  began  to  spit  on 
the  Milonians.  The  Milonians  drew  swords  and  cut  the 
heads  of  the  Clodians.  The  workingmen,  being  unarmed, 
got  the  worst  of  the  conflict;  and  Clodius  was  flung  from 
the  Rostra.  The  Senate  was  summoned  to  call  Pompey 
to  account.  Cicero  went  ofif  home,  wishing  to  defend 
Pompey,  but  wishing  also  not  to  ofifend  the  "  good  "  party, 
who  were  clamorous  against  him.  That  evening  nothing 
could  be  done.  Two  days  after,  the  Senate  met  again; 
Cato  abused  Pompey,  and  praised  Cicero  much  against 
Cicero's  will,  who  was  anxious  to  stand  well  with  Pompey. 


2l8  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  56 

Pompey  accused  Cato  and  Crassus  of  a  conspiracy  to  mur- 
der him.  In  fact,  as  Cicero  said,  Pompey  had  just  then 
no  friend  in  any  party.  The  mob  was  estranged  from  him, 
the  noble  lords  hated  him,  the  Senate  did  not  like  him,  the 
patrician  youth  insulted  him,  and  he  was  driven  to  bring 
up  friends  from  the  country  to  protect  his  Hfe.  All  sides 
were  mustering  their  forces  in  view  of  an  impending 
fight.^^ 

It  would  be  wasted  labour  to  trace  minutely  the  particu- 
lars of  so  miserable  a  scene,  or  the  motives  of  the  princi- 
pal actors  in  it — Pompey,  bound  to  Csesar  by  engagement 
and  conviction,  yet  jealous  of  his  growing  fame,  without 
political  conviction  of  his  own,  and  only  conscious  that  his 
weight  in  the  State  no  longer  corresponded  to  his  own  esti- 
mate of  his  merits — Clodius  at  the  head  of  the  starving 
mob,  representing  mere  anarchy,  and  nourishing  an  im- 
placable hate  against  Cicero — Cicero,  anxious  for  his  own 
safety,  knowing  now  that  he  had  made  enemies  of  half  the 
Senate,  watching  how  the  balance  of  factions  would  go, 
and  dimly  conscious  that  the  sword  would  have  to  decide 
it,  clinging,  therefore,  to  Pompey,  whose  military  abilities 
his  civilian  ignorance  considered  supereminent — Cato,  a 
virtuous  fanatic,  narrow,  passionate,  with  a  vein  of  van- 
ity, regarding  all  ways  as  wrong  but  his  own,  and  think- 
ing all  men  who  would  not  walk  as  he  prescribed  wicked 
as  well  as  mistaken — the  rest  of  the  aristocracy  scuffling 
for  the  plunder  of  Egypt,  or  engaged  in  other  enterprises 
not  more  creditable — the  streets  given  over  to  the  fac- 
tions— the  elections  the  alternate  prize  of  bribery  or  vio- 
lence, and  consulates  and  prsetorships  falling  to  men  more 
than  half  of  whom,  if  Cicero  can  be  but  moderately  be- 
lieved, deserved  to  be  crucified.  Cicero's  main  affection 
was  for  Titus  Annius  Milo,  to  whom  he  clung  as  a  woman 
will  cling  to  a  man  whose  strength  she  hopes  will  support 
her  weakness.  Milo,  at  least,  would  revenge  his  wrongs 
upon  Clodius.  Clodius,  Cicero  said  even  in  the  Senate, 
was  Milo's  predestined  victim.^*  Titus  Annius  knew  how 
an  armed  citizen  who  burnt  temples  and  honest  men's 


B.  c.  56]  CICERO  ON   ROMAN  AFFAIRS  219 

houses  ought  to  be  dealt  with.  Titus  Annius  was  born  to 
extinguish  that  pest  of  the  Commonwealth/* 

Still  smarting  over  his  exile,  Cicero  went  one  day  with 
Milo  and  his  gladiators  to  the  Capitol  when  Clodius  was 
absent,  and  carried  off  the  brass  tablet  on  which  the  de- 
cree of  his  exile  had  been  engraved.  It  was  some  solace 
to  his  poor  vanity  to  destroy  the  record  of  his  misfortune. 
But  it  was  in  vain.  All  was  going  wrong.  Caesar's  grow- 
ing glories  came  thick  to  trouble  his  peace.  He,  after  all, 
then,  was  not  to  be  the  greatest  man  in  Rome.  How 
would  these  splendid  successes  affect  parties?  How  would 
they  affect  Pompey?  How  would  they  affect  the  Sen- 
ate?    What  should  he  do  himself? 

The  Senate  distrusted  him;  the  people  distrusted  him. 
In  his  perplexity  he  tried  to  rouse  the  aristocracy  to  a  sense 
of  their  danger,  and  hinted  that  his  was  the  name  which 
yet  might  save  them. 

Sextius,  who  had  been  a  tribune  with  Milo  in  the  past 
year,  was  under  prosecution  for  one  of  the  innumerable 
acts  of  violence  which  had  disgraced  the  city.  Cicero  de- 
fended him,  and  spoke  at  length  on  the  state  of  affairs  as 
he  wished  the  world  to  believe  that  he  regarded  it. 

"  In  the  Commonwealth,"  he  said,  "  there  have  always 
been  two  parties — the  populares  and  the  optimates.  The 
populares  say  and  do  what  will  please  the  mob.  The 
optimates  say  and  do  what  will  please  the  best  men.  And 
who  are  the  best  men?  They  are  of  all  ranks  and  infinite 
in  number — senators,  municipals,  farmers,  men  of  business, 
even  libertini.  The  type  is  distinct.  They  are  the  well- 
to-do,  the  sound,  the  honest,  who  do  no  wrong  to  any 
man.  The  object  at  which  they  aim  is  quiet  with  honour.^'' 
They  are  the  Conservatives  of  the  State.  Religion  and 
good  government,  the  Senate's  authority,  the  laws  and 
customs  of  our  ancestors,  public  faith,  integrity,  sound  ad- 
ministration— these  are  the  principles  on  which  they  rest, 
and  these  they  will  maintain  with  their  lives.  Their  path 
is  perilous.  The  foes  of  the  State  are  stronger  than  its  de- 
fenders; they  are  bold  and  desperate,  and  go  with  a  will 


220  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  56 

to  the  work  of  destruction;  while  the  good,  I  know  not 
why,  are  languid,  and  will  not  rouse  themselves  unless 
compelled.  They  would  have  quiet  without  honour,  and 
so  lose  both  quiet  and  honour.  Some  are  triflers,  some 
are  timid,  only  a  few  stand  firm.  But  it  is  not  now  as  it 
was  in  the  days  of  the  Gracchi.  There  have  been  great 
reforms.  The  people  are  conservative  at  heart;  the  dema- 
gogues cannot  rouse  them,  and  are  forced  to  pack  the  As- 
sembly with  hired  gangs.  Take  away  these  gangs,  stop 
corruption  at  the  elections,  and  we  shall  be  all  of  one  mind. 
The  people  will  be  on  our  side.  The  citizens  of  Rome  are 
not  populares.  They  hate  the  populares,  and  prefer  hon- 
ourable men.  How  did  they  weep  in  the  theatres  where 
they  heard  the  news  that  I  was  exiled!  How  did  they 
cheer  my  name!  '  Tully,  the  preserver  of  our  liberties!' 
was  repeated  a  thousand  times.  Attend  to  me,"  he  said, 
turning  paternally  to  the  high-born  youths  who  were  lis- 
tening to  him,  "  attend  to  me  when  I  bid  you  walk  in  the 
ways  of  our  forefathers.  Would  you  have  praise  and 
honour,  would  you  have  the  esteem  of  the  wise  and  good, 
value  the  constitution  under  which  you  live.  Our  ances- 
tors, impatient  of  kings,  appointed  annual  magistrates,  and 
for  the  administration  they  nominated  a  Senate  chosen 
from  the  whole  people  into  which  the  road  is  open  for  the 
poorest  citizen."  ^^ 

So  Cicero,  trying  to  persuade  others,  and  perhaps  half 
persuading  himself,  that  all  might  yet  be  well,  and  that  the 
Roman  Constitution  would  roll  on  upon  its  old  lines  in 
the  face  of  the  scandal  of  Ptolemy  and  the  greater  scandals 
of  Clodius  and  Milo. 

Cicero  might  make  speeches;  but  events  followed  their 
inexorable  course.  The  patricians  had  forgotten  nothing 
and  had  learnt  nothing.  The  Senate  had  voted  thanks- 
giving for  Caesar's  victories;  but  in  their  hearts  they  hated 
him  more  for  them,  because  they  feared  him  more.  Milo 
and  his  gladiators  gave  them  courage.  The  bitterest  of 
the  aristocrats,  Domitius  Ahenobarbus,  Cato's  brother-in- 
law  and  praetor  for  the  year,  was  a  candidate  for  the  con- 


B.  c.  56]  POMPEY,   CESAR,  AND   CRASSUS  221 

sulship.  His  enormous  wealth  made  his  success  almost 
certain,  and  he  announced  in  the  Senate  that  he  meant  to 
recall  Caesar  and  repeal  his  laws.  In  April  a  motion  was 
introduced  in  the  Senate  to  revise  Caesar's  Land  Act.  Sus- 
picions had  gone  abroad  that  Cicero  believed  Caesar's  star 
to  be  in  the  ascendant,  and  that  he  was  again  wavering. 
To  clear  himself  he  spoke  as  passionately  as  Domitius 
could  himself  have  wished,  and  declared  that  he  honoured 
more  the  resistance  of  Bibulus  than  all  the  triumphs  in  the 
world.  It  was  time  to  come  to  an  end  with  these  gentle- 
men. Pompey  was  deeply  committed  to  Caesar's  agrarian 
law,  for  it  had  been  passed  primarily  to  provide  for  his 
own  disbanded  soldiers.  He  was  the  only  man  in  Rome 
who  retained  any  real  authority;  and  touched,  as  for  a 
moment  he  might  have  been,  with  jealousy,  he  felt  that 
honour,  duty,  every  principle  of  prudence  or  patriotism,  re- 
quired him  at  so  perilous  a  crisis  to  give  Caesar  his  firm  sup- 
port. Clodius  was  made  in  some  way  to  understand  that, 
if  he  intended  to  retain  his  influence,  he  must  conform  to 
the  wishes  of  the  army.  His  brother,  Appius,  crossed  the 
Alps  to  see  Caesar  himself;  and  Caesar,  after  the  troops 
were  in  their  winter  quarters,  came  over  to  the  north  of 
Italy.  Here  an  interview  was  arranged  between  the  chiefs 
of  the  popular  party.  The  place  of  meeting  was  Lucca, 
on  the  frontier  of  Caesar's  province.  Pompey,  who  had 
gone  upon  a  tour  along  the  coast  and  through  the  Medi- 
terranean islands  on  his  corn  business,  attended  without 
concealment  or  mystery.  Crassus  was  present,  and  more 
than  a  hundred  senators.  The  talking  power  of  the  State 
was  in  Rome.  The  practical  and  real  power  was  in  the 
Lucca  conference.  Pompey,  Caesar,  and  Crassus  were 
irresistible  when  heartily  united,  and  a  complete  scheme 
was  arranged  between  them  for  the  government  of  the 
Empire.  There  was  to  be  no  Domitius  Ahenobarbus  for 
a  consul,  or  aristocratic  coups  d'etat.  Pompey  and 
Crassus  were  to  be  consuls  for  the  ensuing  year.  The 
consulship  over,  Pompey  was  to  have  Spain  for  a  province 
for  five  years,  with  an  adequate  army.     Crassus,  who  was 


222  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  56 

ambitious  also  of  military  distinction,  was  to  have  Syria. 
Caesar's  command  in  Gaul  was  to  be  extended  for  five  years 
further  in  addition  to  his  present  term.  The  consent  of 
the  Assembly  was  to  be  secured,  if  difficulty  arose,  by  the 
votes  of  the  army.  The  elections  being  in  the  winter, 
Caesar's  soldiers  were  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  Rome  on  fur- 
lough. 

In  a  personal  interview  Caesar  easily  asserted  his  ascend- 
ency. Pompey  allowed  himself  to  be  guided,  and  the  ar- 
rangement was  probably  dictated  by  Caesar's  own  pru- 
dence. He  did  not  mean  to  leave  Gaul  half  conquered,  to 
see  his  w^ork  undone,  and  himself  made  into  a  plaything 
by  men  who  had  incited  Ariovistus  to  destroy  him.  The 
senators  who  were  present  at  Lucca  implied  by  their  co- 
operation that  they  too  were  weary  of  anarchy,  and  would 
sustain  the  army  in  a  remodelling  of  the  State  if  milder 
measures  failed. 

Thus,  for  the  moment,  Domitius  and  Cato  were  baffled. 
Domitius  was  not  to  be  consul.  Caesar  was  not  to  be  re- 
called, or  his  laws  repealed.  There  was  no  hope  for  them 
or  for  the  reaction,  till  Pompey  and  Caesar  could  be  di- 
vided; and  their  alliance  was  closer  now  than  ever.  The 
aristocratic  party  could  but  chafe  in  impotent  rage.  The 
effect  on  Cicero  was  curious.  He  had  expected  that  the 
Conservative  movement  would  succeed,  and  he  had  hu- 
miliated himself  before  the  Senate,  in  the  idle  hope  of  win- 
ning back  their  favour.  The  conference  at  Lucca  opened 
his  eyes.  For  a  time  at  least  he  perceived  that  Caesar's 
was  the  winning  side,  and  he  excused  himself  for  going 
over  to  it  by  laying  the  blame  on  the  Senate's  folly  and  in- 
gratitude to  himself.  Some  private  correspondence  pre- 
ceded his  change  of  sides.  He  consulted  Atticus,  and  had 
received  characteristic  and  cautious  advice  from  him.  He 
described  in  reply  his  internal  struggles,  the  resolution  at 
which  he  had  arrived,  and  the  conclusion  which  he  had 
formed  upon  his  own  past  conduct. 

''  I  am  chewing  what  I  have  to  swallow,"  he  said. 
"  Recantation  does  not  seem  very  creditable;  but  adieu 


B.  c.  56]  CICERO   GOES  OVER  TO  CiESAR  223 

to  Straightforward,  honest  counsels.  You  would  not  be- 
lieve the  perfidy  of  these  chiefs;  as  they  wish  to  be,  and 
what  they  might  be  if  they  had  any  faith  in  them.  I  had 
felt,  I  had  known,  that  I  was  being  led  on  by  them,  and 
then  deserted  and  cast  off;  and  yet  I  thought  of  making 
common  cause  with  them.  They  were  the  same  which 
they  had  always  been.  You  made  me  see  the  truth  at  last. 
You  will  say  you  warned  me.  You  advised  what  I  should 
do,  and  you  told  me  not  to  write  to  Caesar.  By  Hercules! 
I  wished  to  put  myself  in  a  position  where  I  should  be 
obliged  to  enter  into  this  new  coalition,  and  where  it  would 
not  be  possible  for  me,  even  if  I  desired  it,  to  go  with  those 
who  ought  to  pity  me,  and,  instead  of  pity,  give  me  grudg- 
ing and  envy.  I  have  been  moderate  in  what  I  have  writ- 
ten. I  shall  be  more  full  if  Caesar  meets  me  graciously; 
and  then  those  gentlemen  who  are  so  jealous  that  I  have  a 
decent  house  to  live  in  will  make  a  wry  face.  .  .  Enough 
of  this.  Since  those  who  have  no  power  will  not  be  my 
friends,  I  must  endeavour  to  make  friends  with  those  who 
have.  You  will  say  you  wished  this  long  ago.  I  know 
that  you  wished  it,  and  that  I  have  been  a  mere  ass;^^ 
but  it  is  time  for  me  to  be  loved  by  myself,  since  I  can  get 
no  love  for  them."  ^^ 

Pompey,  after  leaving  Lucca,  sent  Cicero  a  message, 
through  his  brother,  complaining  of  his  speech  on  the 
Land  Act,  but  assuring  him  of  his  own  and  Caesar's  friend- 
ship if  he  would  be  true  to  them.  In  an  apologetic  letter 
to  Lentulus  Spinther,  Cicero  explained  and  justified  what 
he  meant  to  do. 

"  Pompey,"  he  said,  "  did  not  let  me  know  that  he  was 
offended.  He  went  off  to  Sardinia,  and  on  his  way  saw 
Caesar  at  Lucca.  Caesar  was  angry  with  me;  he  had  seen 
Crassus,  and  Crassus  had  prejudiced  him.  Pompey,  too, 
was  himself  displeased.  He  met  my  brother  a  few  days 
after,  and  told  him  to  use  his  influence  with  me.  He  re- 
minded him  of  his  exertions  in  my  behalf;  he  swore  that 
those  exertions  had  been  made  with  Caesar's  consent,  and 
he  begged  particularly  that,  if  I  could  not  support  Caesar, 


224  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  56 

I  would  not  go  against  him.  I  reflected.  I  debated  the 
matter  as  if  with  the  Commonwealth.  I  had  suffered 
much  and  done  much  for  the  Commonwealth.  I  had  now 
to  think  of  myself.  I  had  been  a  good  citizen;  I  must  now 
be  a  good  man.  Expressions  came  round  to  me  that  had 
been  used  by  certain  persons  whom  even  you  do  not  like. 
They  were  delighted  to  think  that  I  had  offended  Pompey, 
and  had  made  Caesar  my  mortal  enemy.  This  was  annoy- 
ing enough.  But  the  same  persons  embraced  and  kissed 
even  in  my  presence  my  worst  foe — the  foe  of  law,  order, 
peace,  country,  and  every  good  man.^^  .  .  .  They  meant 
to  irritate  me,  but  I  had  not  spirit  to  be  angry.  I  sur- 
veyed my  situation.  I  cast  up  my  accounts,  and  I  came 
to  a  conclusion,  which  was  briefly  this.  If  the  State  was 
in  the  hands  of  bad  men,  as  in  my  time  I  have  known  it 
to  be,  I  would  not  join  them  though  they  loaded  me  with 
favours;  but  when  the  first  person  in  the  Commonwealth 
was  Pompey,  whose  services  had  been  so  eminent,  whose 
advancement  I  had  myself  furthered,  and  who  stood  by  me 
in  my  difficulties,  I  was  not  inconsistent  if  I  modified  some 
of  my  opinions,  and  conformed  to  the  wishes  of  one  who 
has  deserved  so  well  of  me.  If  I  went  with  Pompey,  I 
must  go  with  Caesar  too;  and  here  the  old  friendship  came 
to  bear  between  Caesar,  my  brother,  and  myself,  as  well 
as  Caesar's  kindness  to  me,  of  which  I  had  seen  evidence  in 
word  and  deed.  .  .  Public  interest,  too,  moved  me.  A 
quarrel  with  these  men  would  be  most  inexpedient,  espe- 
cially after  what  Caesar  has  done.  .  .  If  the  persons  who 
assisted  in  bringing  me  back  had  been  my  friends  after- 
wards, they  would  have  recovered  their  power  when  they 
had  me  to  help  them.  The  '  good '  had  gained  heart 
when  you  were  consul.  Pompey  was  then  won  to  the 
'  good  '  cause.  Even  Caesar,  after  being  decorated  by  the 
Senate  for  his  victories,  might  have  been  brought  to  a 
better  judgment,  and  wicked  citizens  would  have  had  no 
opening  to  make  disturbances.  But  what  happened? 
These  very  men  protected  Clodius,  who  cared  no  more  for 
the  Bona  Dea  than  for  the  Three  Sisters.     They  allowed 


B.  c.  56]  CICERO   GOES   OVER  TO   CAESAR  22$ 

my  monument  to  be  engraved  with  a  hostile  record.^*^ 
.  .  .  The  good  party  are  not  as  you  left  them.  Those 
who  ought  to  have  been  staunch  have  fallen  away.  You 
see  it  in  their  faces.  You  see  it  in  the  words  and  votes 
of  those  whom  we  called  '  optimates  ' ;  so  that  wise  citi- 
zens, one  of  whom  I  wish  to  be  and  to  be  thought,  must 
change  their  course.  '  Persuade  your  countrymen,  if 
you  can,'  said  Plato;  '  but  use  no  violence.'  Plato  found 
that  he  could  no  longer  persuade  the  Athenians,  and  there- 
fore he  withdrew  from  pubHc  life.  Advice  could  not  move 
them,  and  he  held  force  to  be  unlawful.  My  case  was  dif- 
ferent. I  was  not  called  on  to  undertake  public  responsi- 
bilities. I  was  content  to  further  my  own  interests,  and 
to  defend  honest  men's  causes.  Caesar's  goodness  to  me 
and  to  my  brother  would  have  bound  me  to  him  whatever 
had  been  his  fortunes.  Now  after  so  much  glory  and  vic- 
tory I  should  speak  nobly  of  him  though  I  owe  him 
nothing."  ^^ 

Happy  it  would  have  been  for  Cicero,  and  happy  for 
Rome,  had  he  persevered  in  the  course  which  he  now 
seemed  really  to  have  chosen.  Cicero  and  Caesar  united 
might  have  restored  the  authority  of  the  laws,  punished 
corruption  and  misgovernment,  made  their  country  the 
mother  as  well  as  the  mistress  of  the  world;  and  the  Re- 
public, modified  to  suit  the  change  of  times,  might  have 
survived  for  many  generations.  But  under  such  a  modifi- 
cation Cicero  would  have  no  longer  been  the  first  person 
in  the  Commonwealth.  The  talkers  would  have  ceased  to 
rule,  and  Cicero  was  a  talker  only.  He  could  not  bear  to 
be  subordinate.  He  was  persuaded  that  he,  and  not 
Caesar,  was  the  world's  real  great  man;  and  so  he  held  on, 
leaning  now  to  one  faction  and  now  to  another,  waiting  for 
the  chance  which  was  to  put  him  at  last  in  his  true  place. 
For  the  moment,  however,  he  saved  himself  from  the 
degradation  into  which  the  Senate  precipitated  itself.  The 
arrangements  at  Lucca  were  the  work  of  the  army.  The 
Conservative  majority  refused  to  let  the  army  dictate  to 
them.  Domitius  intended  still  to  be  consul,  let  the  army 
15 


226  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  56 

say  what  it  pleased.  Pompey  and  Crassus  returned  to 
Rome  for  the  elections;  the  consuls  for  the  year,  Marcel- 
linus  and  Philip,  declined  to  take  their  names.  The  con- 
suls and  the  Senate  appealed  to  the  Assembly,  the  Senate 
marching  into  the  Forum  in  state,  as  if  calling  on  the 
genius  of  the  nation  to  defend  the  outraged  constitution. 
In  vain.  The  people  would  not  listen.  The  consuls  were 
groaned  down.  No  genius  of  Rome  presided  in  those 
meetings,  but  the  genius  of  revolution  in  the  person  of 
Clodius.  The  senators  were  driven  back  into  the  Curia, 
and  Clodius  followed  them  there.  The  officers  forbade  his 
entrance.  Furious  young  aristocrats  flew  upon  him, 
seized  him,  and  would  have  murdered  him  in  their  rage. 
Clodius  shrieked  for  help.  His  rascal  followers  rushed  in 
with  lighted  torches,  swearing  to  burn  house  and  Senate 
if  a  hair  of  Clodius's  head  were  hurt.  They  bore  their  idol 
off  in  triumph;  and  the  wretched  senators  sat  gazing  at 
each  other,  or  storming  at  Pompey,  and  inquiring  scorn- 
fully if  he  and  Crassus  intended  to  appoint  themselves  con- 
suls. Pompey  answered  that  they  had  no  desire  for  office, 
but  anarchy  must  be  brought  to  an  end. 

Still  the  consuls  of  the  year  stubbornly  refused  to  take 
the  names  of  the  Lucca  nominees.  The  year  ran  out,  and 
no  election  had  been  held.  In  such  a  difficulty,  the  consti- 
tution had  provided  for  the  appointment  of  an  Interrex 
till  fresh  consuls  could  be  chosen.  Pompey  and  Crassus 
were  then  nominated,  with  a  foregone  conclusion.  Do- 
mitius  still  persisted  in  standing;  and,  had  it  been  safe  to  try 
the  usual  methods,  the  patricians  would  have  occupied  the 
voting  places  as  before  with  their  retinues,  and  returned 
him  by  force.  But  young  Publius  Crassus  was  in  Rome 
with  thousands  of  Caesar's  soldiers,  who  had  come  up  to 
vote  from  the  north  of  Italy.  With  these  it  was  not  safe 
to  venture  on  a  conflict,  and  the  consulships  fell  as  the 
Lucca  conference  had  ordered. 

The  consent  of  the  Assembly  to  the  other  arrangements 
remained  to  be  obtained.  Caesar  was  to  have  five  addi- 
tional years  in  Gaul;  Pompey  and  Crassus  were  to  have 


B.  c.  55]  A   SPECTACLE   IN  THE  AMPHITHEATRE  22/ 

Spain  and  Syria,  also  for  five  years  each,  as  soon  as  their 
year  of  office  should  be  over.  The  defenders  of  the  con- 
stitution fought  to  the  last.  Cato  foamed  on  the  Rostra. 
When  the  two  hours  allowed  him  to  speak  were  expired, 
he  refused  to  sit  down,  and  was  removed  by  a  guard.  The 
meeting  was  adjourned  to  the  next  day.  Publius  Gallus, 
another  irreconcilable,  passed  the  night  in  the  Senate- 
house,  that  he  might  be  in  his  place  at  dawn.  Cato  and 
Favonius  were  again  at  their  posts.  The  familiar  cry  was 
raised  that  the  signs  of  the  sky  were  unfavourable.  The 
excuse  had  ceased  to  be  legal.  The  tribunes  ordered  the 
voting  to  go  forward.  The  last  resource  was  then  tried. 
A  riot  began,  but  to  no  purpose.  The  aristocrats  and  their 
clients  were  beaten  back,  and  the  several  commands  were 
ratified.  As  the  people  were  dispersing,  their  opponents 
rallied  back,  filled  the  Forum,  and  were  voting  Caesar's  re- 
call, when  Pompey  came  on  them  and  swept  them  out. 
Gallus  was  carried  off  covered  with  blood ;  and,  to  prevent 
further  questions,  the  vote  for  Caesar  was  taken  a  second 
time. 

The  immediate  future  was  thus  assured.  Time  had  been 
obtained  for  the  completion  of  the  work  in  Gaul.  Pom- 
pey dedicated  a  new  theatre,  and  delighted  the  mob  with 
games  and  races.  Five  hundred  lions  were  consumed  in 
five  days'  combat.  As  a  special  novelty  eighteen  elephants 
were  made  to  fight  with  soldiers;  and,  as  a  yet  more  ex- 
traordinary phenomenon,  the  sanguinary  Roman  specta- 
tors showed  signs  of  compunction  at  their  sufferings.  The 
poor  beasts  were  quiet  and  harmless.  When  wounded 
with  the  lances,  they  turned  away,  threw  up  their  trunks, 
and  trotted  around  the  circus,  crying,  as  if  in  protest 
against  wanton  cruelty.  The  story  went  that  they  were 
half  human;  that  they  had  been  seduced  on  board  the 
African  transports  by  a  promise  that  they  should  not  be 
ill-used,  and  they  were  supposed  to  be  appealing  to  the 
gods."  Cicero  alludes  to  the  scene  in  a  letter  to  one  of 
his  friends.  Mentioning  Pompey's  exhibitions  with  evi- 
dent  contempt,   he   adds:   ''There   remained   the   hunts. 


228  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  55 

which  lasted  five  days.  All  say  that  they  were  very  fine. 
But  what  pleasure  can  a  sensible  person  find  in  seeing  a 
clumsy  performer  torn  by  a  wild  beast,  or  a  noble  animal 
pierced  with  a  hunting  spear?  The  last  day  was  given  to 
the  elephants;  not  interesting  to  me,  however  delightful  to 
the  rabble.  A  certain  pity  was  felt  for  them,  as  if  the  ele- 
phants had  some  affinity  with  man."  ^^ 


Notes 

*  Page  204.  To  Atticus,  ii.  16. 

^Page  204.   "  Conservatores  Reipublicse. " — Pro  Sextio. 
^  Page  208.  Mommsen. 

*  Page  208.  "  Omnia  sunt  meS,  culp^  commissa,  qui  ab  his  me  amari  pu- 
tabam  quiinvenebant:  eos  non  sequebar  qui  petebant." — Ad  Familiares, 
xiv.  I.  '  Nullum  estmeum  peccatum  nisi  quod  iis  credidi  a  quibus  nefas 
putabam  esse  me  decipi.  .  .  Intimus  proximus  familiarissimus  quisque 
aut  sibi  pertimuit  aut  mihi  invidit." — Ad  Quintum  Fratrem,  i.  4. 

^  Page  209.  "  Meministis  turn,  judices,  corporibus  civium  Tiberim 
compleri  cloacas  referciri,  e  foro  spongiis  effingi  sanguinem.  .  . 
Csedem  tantam,  tantos  acervos  corporum  extructos,  nisi  forte  illo 
Cinnano  atque  Octaviano  die,  quis  unquam  in  foro  vidit?" — Oratio  pro 
P.  Sextio,  XXXV.  36. 

*  Page  211.  Ad  Quirites  post  Reditum. 
■'Page  212.  "  Ejus  vir  Catilina." 

*  Page  212.  "  Cum  in  Circo  Flaminio  non  a  tribuno  plebis  consul  in  con- 
cionem  sed  a  latrone  archipirata  productus  esset,  primum  processit  qu^ 
auctoritate  vir.  Vini,  somni,  stupri  plenus,  madenti  com^,  gravibus 
oculis,  fluentibus  buccis,  pressa  voce  et  temulenta,  quod  in  cives  in- 
demnatos  esset  animadversum,  id  sibi  dixit  gravis  auctor  vehementis- 
sime  displicere." — Post  Reditum  in  Senatu,  6. 

*  Page  212.  Cicero  could  never  leave  Gabinius  and  Piso  alone.  Again 
and  again  he  returned  upon  them  railing  like  a  fishwife.  In  his  oration 
for  Sextius  he  scoffed  at  Gabinius's  pomatum  and  curled  hair,  and 
taunted  him  with  unmentionable  sins;  but  he  specially  entertained 
himself  with  his  description  of  Piso: 

"  For  Piso!  "  he  said:  "oh,  gods,  how  unwashed,  how  stern  he  looked 
— a  pillar  of  antiquity,  like  one  of  the  old  bearded  consuls;  his  dress 
plain  plebeian  purple,  his  hair  tangled,  his  brow  a  very  pledge  for  the 
commonwealth!  Such  solemnity  in  his  eye,  such  wrinkling  of  his  fore- 
head, that  you  would  have  said  the  State  was  resting  on  his  head  like 
the  sky  on  Atlas.  Here  we  thought  we  had  a  refuge.  Here  was  the 
man  to  oppose  the  filth  of  Gabinius;  his  very  face  would  be  enough. 
People  congratulated  us  on  having  one  friend  to  save  us  from  the  trib- 
une.    Alas!  I  was  deceived,"  etc.,  etc. 

Piso  afterward  called  Cicero  to  account  in  the  Senate,  and  brought 


B.  c.  55]  A   SPECTACLE   IN  THE  AMPHITHEATRE  229 

out  a  still  more  choice  explosion  of  invectives.  Beast,  filth,  polluted 
monster,  and  such  like,  were  the  lightest  of  the  names  which  Cicero 
hurled  back  at  one  of  the  oldest  members  of  the  Roman  aristocracy. 
A  single  specimen  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  cataract  of  nastiness 
which  he  poured  alike  on  Piso  and  Clodius  and  Gabinius:  "  When  all 
the  good  were  hiding  themselves  in  tears,"  he  said  to  Piso,  "  when  the 
temples  were  groaning  and  the  very  houses  in  the  city  were  mourning 
(over  my  exile),  you,  heartless  madman  that  you  are,  took  up  the  cause 
of  that  pernicious  animal,  that  clotted  mass  of  incests  and  civil  blood, 
of  villainies  intended  and  impurity  of  crimes  committed  (he  was  allud- 
ing to  Clodius,  who  was  in  the  Senate  probably  listening  to  him). 
Need  I  speak  of  your  feasting,  your  laughter,  and  handshakings — your 
drunken  orgies  with  the  filthy  companions  of  your  potations  ?  Who  in 
those  days  saw  you  ever  sober,  or  doing  anything  that  a  citizen  need 
not  be  ashamed  of  ?  While  your  colleague's  house  was  sounding  with 
songs  and  cymbals,  and  he  himself  was  dancing  naked  at  a  supper- 
party  (cumque  ipse  nudus  in  convivio  saltaret),  you,  you  coarse  glutton, 
with  less  taste  for  music,  were  lying  in  a  stew  of  Greek  boys  and  wine 
in  a  feast  of  the  Centaurs  and  Lapithae,  where  one  cannot  say  whether 
you  drank  most,  or  vomited  most,  or  spilt  most."— In  L.  Pisonem,  10. 
The  manners  of  the  times  do  not  excuse  language  of  this  kind,  for  there 
was  probably  not  another  member  of  the  Senate  who  indulged  in  it. 
If  Cicero  was  disliked  and  despised,  he  had  his  own  tongue  to  thank 
for  it. 

**  Page  212.  To  Atticus,  iv.  2. 

"  Page  215.  To  Atticus,  iv.  3. 

"  Page  216.  For  the  details  of  this  story  see  Dion  Cassius,  lib.  xxxix. 
capp.  12-16.  Compare  Cicero  ad  Familiares,  lib.  i.  Epist.  1-2.  Curious 
subterranean  influences  seem  to  have  been  at  work  to  save  the  Senate 
from  the  infamy  of  restoring  Ptolemy.  Verses  were  discovered  in  the 
Sibylline  Books  directing  that  if  an  Egyptian  king  came  to  Rome  as  a 
suppliant,  he  was  to  be  entertained  hospitably,  but  was  to  have  no 
active  help.     Perhaps  Cicero  was  concerned  in  this. 

13  Page  218.  Ad  Quintum  Fratrem,  ii.  3. 

"  Page  218.  '•  Tito  Anniodevota  et  constituta  hostia  esse  videtur." — 
De  Haruspicum  responsis. 

"  Page  219.  "  Otium  cum  dignitate." 

16  Page  220.  Abridged  from  the  Oratio  pro  Sextio. 

"  Page  223.  "  Me  germanum  asinum  fuisse."  Perhaps  **  own  brother 
to  an  ass  "  would  be  a  more  proper  rendering. 

1*  Page  223.  To  Atticus,  iv.  5. 

!•  Page  224.  Clodius. 

20  Page  224.  Here  follows  much  about  himself  and  his  own  merits. 

21  Page  225.  To  Lentulus  Spinther,  Ad  Familiares,  i.  9.  The  length 
of  this  remarkable  letter  obliges  me  to  give  but  an  imperfect  summary 
of  it.  The  letter  itself  should  be  studied  carefully  by  those  who  would 
understand  Cicero's  conduct. 

2*  Page  227.  Dion  Cassius. 

23  Page  228.  Ad  Familiares,  vii.  i. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

WHILE  Caesar  was  struggling  with  the  Senate  for 
leave  to  complete  the  conquest  of  Gaul,  fresh 
work  was  preparing  for  him  there.  Young 
Publius  Crassus,  before  he  went  to  Italy,  had  wintered  with 
the  Seventh  Legion  in  Brittany.  The  Breton  tribes  had 
nominally  made  their  submission,  and  Crassus  had  desired 
them  to  supply  his  commissariat.  They  had  given  hos- 
tages for  their  good  behaviour,  and  most  of  them  were 
ready  to  obey.  The  Veneti,  the  most  important  of  the 
coast  clans,  refused.  They  induced  the  rest  to  join  them. 
They  seized  the  Roman  officers  whom  Crassus  had  sent 
among  them,  and  they  then  offered  to  exchange  their  pris- 
oners for  their  countrymen  whom  the  Romans  held  in 
pledge.  The  legions  might  be  irresistible  on  land;  but  the 
Veneti  believed  that  their  position  was  impregnable  to  an 
attack  on  the  land  side.  Their  homes  were  on  the  Bay  of 
Quiberon  and  on  the  creeks  and  estuaries  between  the 
mouth  of  the  Loire  and  Brest.  Their  villages  were  built 
on  promontories,  cut  off  at  high  tide  from  the  mainland, 
approachable  only  by  water,  and  not  by  water  except  in 
shallow  vessels  of  small  draught  which  could  be  grounded 
safely  on  the  mud.  The  population  were  sailors  and  fish- 
ermen. They  were  ingenious  and  industrious,  and  they 
carried  on  a  considerable  trade  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay  and  in 
the  British  Channel.  They  had  ships  capable  of  facing 
the  heavy  seas  which  rolled  in  from  the  Atlantic,  flat- 
bottomed,  with  high  bow  and  stern,  built  solidly  of  oak, 
with  timbers  a  foot  thick,  fastened  with  large  iron  nails. 
They  had  iron  chains  for  cables.  Their  sails — either  be- 
cause sailcloth  was  scarce,  or  because  they  thought  canvas 
too  weak  for  the  strain  of  the  winter  storms — were  manu- 
factured out  of  leather.     Such  vessels  were  unwieldy,  but 

230 


B.C.  56J  THE  VENETI  23 1 

had  been  found  available  for  voyages  even  to  Britain. 
Their  crews  were  accustomed  to  handle  them,  and  knew  all 
the  rocks  and  shoals  and  currents  of  the  intricate  and  diffi- 
cult harbours.  They  looked  on  the  Romans  as  mere 
landsmen,  and  naturally  enough  they  supposed  that  they 
had  as  little  to  fear  from  an  attack  by  water  as  from  the 
shore.  At  the  worst  they  could  take  to  their  ships  and 
find  a  refuge  in  the  islands. 

Crassus,  when  he  went  to  Rome,  carried  the  report  to 
Caesar  of  the  revolt  of  the  Veneti,  and  Caesar  felt  that 
unless  they  were  promptly  punished  all  Gaul  might  be 
again  in  flame.  They  had  broken  faith.  They  had  im- 
prisoned Roman  officers  who  had  gone  on  a  peaceful  mis- 
sion among  them.  It  was  necessary  to  teach  a  people  so 
restless,  so  hardly  conquered,  and  so  impatient  of  foreign 
dominion  that  there  was  no  situation  which  the  Roman 
arm  was  unable  to  reach. 

While  the  Lucca  conference  was  going  on,  a  fleet  of 
Roman  galleys  was  built  by  his  order  in  the  Loire.  Row- 
ers, seamen,  and  pilots  were  brought  across  from  Mar- 
seilles; when  the  season  was  sufficiently  advanced  for 
active  operations,  Caesar  came  himself  and  rejoined  his 
army.  Titus  Labienus  was  sent  with  three  legions  to 
Treves  to  check  the  Germans  on  the  Rhine,  and  prevent 
disturbances  among  the  Belgae.  Titurius  Sabinus,  with 
three  more,  was  stationed  in  Normandy.  To  Brittany 
Caesar  went  in  person  to  reduce  the  rebellious  Veneti. 
The  weather  was  too  unsettled  for  his  fleet  to  be  able  as 
yet  to  join  him.  Without  its  help  he  found  the  problem 
as  difficult  as  the  Veneti  expected.  Each  village  required 
a  siege;  when  it  was  reduced,  the  inhabitants  took  to  their 
boats,  and  defied  him  again  in  a  new  position.  Many 
weeks  were  thus  fruitlessly  wasted.  The  fine  weather  at 
length  set  in.  The  galleys  from  the  Loire  came  out,  ac- 
companied by  others  from  Rochelle  and  the  mouth  of  the 
Garonne.  The  command  at  sea  was  given  to  Decimus 
Brutus,  a  cousin  of  the  afterward  famous  Marcus,  a  clever, 
able,  and  so  far  loyal  officer, 


232  JULIUS   CiESAR  [b.  c.  56 

The  Veneti  had  collected  every  ship  that  they  or  their 
allies  possessed  to  defend  themselves.  They  had  two  hun- 
dred and  twenty  sail  in  all — a  force,  considering  its  char- 
acter, extremely  formidable.  Their  vessels  were  too 
strong  to  be  run  down.  The  galleys  carried  turrets;  but 
the  bows  and  sterns  of  the  Veneti  were  still  too  lofty  to 
be  reached  effectively  by  the  Roman  javelins.  The  Ro- 
mans had  the  advantage  in  speed;  but  that  was  all.  They 
too,  however,  had  their  ingenuities.  They  had  studied 
the  construction  of  the  Breton  ships.  They  had  provided 
sickles  with  long  handles,  with  which  they  proposed  to 
catch  the  halliards  which  held  the  weight  of  the  heavy 
leather  sails.  It  was  not  difficult  to  do,  if,  as  is  probable, 
the  halliards  were  made  fast,  not  to  the  mast,  but  to  the 
gunwale.  Sweeping  rapidly  alongside  they  could  easily 
cut  them;  the  sails  would  fall,  and  the  vessels  would  be 
unmanageable. 

A  sea  battle  of  this  singular  kind  was  thus  fought  ofif 
the  eastern  promontory  of  the  Bay  of  Quiberon,  Caesar 
and  his  army  looking  on  from  the  shore.  The  sickles 
answered  well;  ship  after  ship  was  disabled;  the  galleys 
closed  with  them,  and  they  were  taken  by  boarding.  The 
Veneti  then  tried  to  retreat;  but  a  calm  came  on,  and  they 
could  not  move.  The  fight  lasted  from  ten  in  the  morn- 
ing till  sunset,  when  the  entire  Breton  fleet  was  taken  or 
sunk. 

After  this  defeat  the  Veneti  gave  up  the  struggle. 
Their  ships  were  all  gone.  Their  best  men  were  on  board, 
and  had  been  killed.  They  had  no  power  of  resistance 
left.  Caesar  was  constitutionally  lenient,  and  admired 
rather  than  resented  a  valiant  fight  for  freedom.  But  the 
Veneti  had  been  treacherous.  They  had  laid  hands  on  the 
sacred  persons  of  Roman  ambassadors,  and  he  considered 
it  expedient  on  this  one  occasion  to  use  severity.  The 
council  who  had  contrived  the  insurrection  were  put  to 
death.  The  rest  of  the  tribe  were  treated  as  the  Aduatuci 
had  been,  and  were  sold  into  slavery. 

Sabinus,  meanwhile,   had  been  in   difficulties  in   Nor- 


B.  c.  56-55]    NORMANDY  AND   AQUITAINE  REDUCED  233 

mandy.  The  people  there  had  risen  and  killed  their  chiefs, 
who  tried  to  keep  them  quiet;  vagabonds  from  other  parts 
had  joined  them,  and  Sabinus,  who  wanted  enterprise, 
allowed  the  disturbances  to  become  dangerous.  He 
ended  them  at  last,  however,  successfully,  and  Caesar  would 
not  allow  his  caution  to  be  blamed.  During  the  same 
months  Publius  Crassus  had  made  a  brilliant  campaign  in 
Aquitaine.  The  Aquitani  had  not  long  before  overthrown 
two  Roman  armies.  Determined  not  to  submit  to  Caesar, 
they  had  allied  themselves  with  the  Spaniards  of  the 
Pyrenees,  and  had  ofificers  among  them  who  had  been 
trained  by  Sertorius.  Crassus  stormed  their  camp  with 
a  skill  and  courage  which  called  out  Caesar's  highest  appro- 
bation, and  completely  subdued  the  whole  country. 

In  all  France  there  now  remained  only  a  few  unimpor- 
tant tribes  on  the  coast  between  Calais  and  the  Scheldt 
which  had  not  formally  submitted.  The  summer  being 
nearly  over,  Caesar  contented  himself  with  a  hasty  survey 
of  their  frontier.  The  weather  broke  up  earlier  than  usual, 
and  the  troops  were  redistributed  in  their  quarters.  Again 
there  had  been  a  year  of  unbroken  success.  The  Romans 
were  masters  of  Gaul,  and  the  admirable  care  of  their  com- 
mander had  preserved  the  numbers  in  his  legions  almost 
undiminished.  The  smallness  of  the  loss  with  which  all 
these  wonders  were  accomplished  is  perhaps  the  most 
extraordinary  feature  of  the  story.  Not  till  a  year  later 
is  there  any  notice  of  fresh  recruits  being  brought  from 
Italy. 

The  winter  which  followed  brought  with  it  another  of 
the  dangerous  waves  of  German  immigration.  The  pow- 
erful Suevi,  a  nation  of  warriors  who  cultivated  no  lands, 
who  wore  no  clothes  but  a  deer  or  sheep  skin,  who  lived 
by  hunting  and  pasture,  despised  the  restraints  of  station- 
ary life,  and  roved  at  pleasure  into  their  neighbours'  terri- 
tories, were  pressing  on  the  weaker  tribes  and  forcing 
them  down  into  the  low  countries.  The  Belgians,  hoping 
for  their  help  against  the  Romans,  had  invited  these  tribes 
over  the  Rhine;  and,  untaught  by  the  fate  of  Ariovistus, 


234  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  55 

they  were  crossing  over  and  collecting  in  enormous  num- 
bers above  the  junction  of  the  Rhine  and  the  Meuse.  Into 
a  half-peopled  country,  large  portions  of  which  are  lying 
waste,  it  might  be  barbarous  to  forbid  an  immigration  of 
harmless  and  persecuted  strangers;  but  if  these  Germans 
were  persecuted,  they  were  certainly  not  harmless;  they 
had  come  at  the  instance  of  the  party  in  Gaul  which  was 
determined  to  resist  the  Roman  conquest,  and  unless  the 
conquest  was  to  be  abandoned,  necessity  required  that  the 
immigration  must  be  prohibited.  When  the  advance  of 
spring  allowed  the  troops  to  move,  Caesar  called  a  council 
of  Gallic  chiefs.  He  said  nothing  of  the  information  which 
had  reached  him  respecting  their  correspondence  with 
these  new  invaders,  but  with  his  usual  swiftness  of  decision 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  act  without  waiting  for  disaffection 
to  show  itself.  He  advanced  at  once  to  the  Ardennes, 
where  he  was  met  by  envoys  from  the  German  camp. 
They  said  that  they  had  been  expelled  from  their  country, 
and  had  come  to  Gaul  in  search  of  a  home;  they  did  not 
wish  to  quarrel  with  the  Romans;  if  Caesar  would  protect 
them  and  give  them  lands  they  promised  to  be  useful  to 
him;  if  he  refused  their  alliance,  they  declared  that  they 
would  defend  themselves.  They  had  fled  before  the 
Sueves,  for  the  Sueves  were  the  first  nation  in  the  world; 
the  immortal  gods  were  not  a  match  for  the  Sueves;  but 
they  were  afraid  of  no  one  else,  and  Caesar  might  choose 
whether  he  would  have  them  for  friends  or  foes. 

Caesar  replied  that  they  must  not  stay  in  Gaul.  There 
were  no  unoccupied  lands  in  Gaul  which  could  receive  so 
vast  a  multitude.  The  Ubii  ^  on  their  own  side  of  the 
Rhine  were  allies  of  the  Romans;  the  Ubii,  he  was  willing 
to  undertake,  would  provide  for  them;  meanwhile  they 
must  go  back;  he  would  listen  to  no  other  conditions.  The 
envoys  departed  with  their  answer,  begging  Caesar  to 
advance  no  farther  till  he  had  again  heard  from  them. 
This  could  not  be  granted.  The  interval  would  be  em- 
ployed in  communicating  with  the  Gauls.  Caesar  pushed 
on,  crossed  the  Meuse  at  Maestricht,  and  descended  the 


B.  c.  55]  DEFEAT   OF   THE   GERMANS  23$ 

river  to  Venloo,  where  he  was  but  twelve  miles  distant 
from  the  German  headquarters.  Again  messengers  came, 
asking  for  time — time,  at  least,  till  they  could  learn 
whether  the  Ubii  would  receive  them.  If  the  Ubii  were 
favourable,  they  said  that  they  were  ready  to  go;  but  they" 
could  not  decide  without  a  knowledge  of  what  was  to  be- 
come of  them.  They  asked  for  a  respite,  if  only  for  three 
days. 

Three  days  meant  only  leisure  to  collect  their  scattered 
detachments,  that  they  might  make  a  better  fight.  Caesar 
gave  them  twenty-four  hours. 

The  two  armies  were  so  near  that  their  front  lines  were 
in  sight  of  each  other.  Caesar  had  given  orders  to  his 
officers  not  to  meddle  with  the  Germans.  But  the  Ger- 
mans, being  undisciplined  and  hot-blooded,  were  less  easy 
to  be  restrained.  A  large  body  of  them  flung  themselves 
on  the  Roman  advanced  guard  and  drove  it  in  with  con- 
siderable loss;  seventy-four  Roman  knights  fell,  and  two 
Aquitanian  noblemen,  brothers,  serving  under  Caesar,  were 
killed  in  defending  each  other. 

Caesar  was  not  sorry  for  an  excuse  to  refuse  further  parley. 
The  Germans  were  now  scattered.  In  a  day  or  two  they 
would  be  united  again.  He  knew  the  effect  which  would 
be  produced  on  the  restless  minds  of  the  Gauls  by  the  news 
of  a  reverse,  however  slight;  and  if  he  delayed  longer  he 
feared  that  the  country  might  be  on  fire  in  his  rear.  On 
the  morning  which  followed  the  first  action,  the  principal 
German  chiefs  appeared  to  apologize  and  to  ask  for  a  truce. 
They  had  come  in  of  their  own  accord.  They  had  not 
applied  for  a  safe  conduct,  and  war  had  been  begun  by 
their  own  people.  They  were  detained  as  prisoners;  and, 
marching  rapidly  over  the  short  space  which  divided  the 
camps,  Caesar  flung  himself  on  the  unfortunate  people 
when  they  were  entirely  unprepared  for  the  attack.  Their 
chiefs  were  gone.  They  were  lying  about  in  confusion 
beside  their  wagons,  women  and  children  dispersed  among 
the  men ;  hundreds  of  thousands  of  human  creatures,  igno- 
rant where  to  turn  for  orders,  and  uncertain  whether  to 


236  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  55 

fight  or  fly.  In  this  condition  the  legions  burst  in  on 
them,  furious  at  what  they  called  the  treachery  of  the  pre- 
vious day,  and  merciless  in  their  vengeance.  The  poor 
Germans  stood  bravely  defending  themselves  as  they 
could;  but  the  sight  of  their  women  flying  in  shrieking 
crowds,  pursued  by  the  Roman  horse,  was  too  much  for 
them,  and  the  whole  host  were  soon  rushing  in  despairing 
wreck  down  the  narrowing  isthmus  between  the  Meuse 
and  the  Rhine.  They  came  to  the  junction  at  last,  and 
then  they  could  go  no  further.  Multitudes  were  slaugh- 
tered; multitudes  threw  themselves  into  the  water  and 
were  drowned.  Caesar,  who  was  not  given  to  exaggera- 
tion, says  that  their  original  number  was  430,000.  The 
only  survivors,  of  whom  any  clear  record  remains,  were 
the  detachments  who  were  absent  from  the  battle,  and  the 
few  chiefs  who  had  come  into  Caesar's  camp  and  continued 
with  him  at  their  own  request  from  fear  of  being  mur- 
dered by  the  Gauls. 

This  affair  was  much  spoken  of  at  the  time,  as  well  it 
might  be.  Questions  were  raised  upon  it  in  the  Senate. 
Cato  insisted  that  Caesar  had  massacred  a  defenceless 
people  in  a  time  of  truce,  that  he  had  broken  the  law  of 
nations,  and  that  he  ought  to  be  given  up  to  the  Germans. 
The  sweeping  off  the  earth  in  such  a  manner  of  a  quarter 
of  a  million  human  creatures,  even  in  those  unscrupulous 
times,  could  not  be  heard  of  without  a  shudder.  The  irri- 
tation in  the  Senate  can  hardly  be  taken  as  disinterested. 
Men  who  had  intrigued  with  Ariovistus  for  Caesar's 
destruction  needed  not  to  be  credited  with  feelings  of  pure 
humanity  when  they  made  the  most  of  the  opportunity. 
But  an  opportunity  had  undoubtedly  been  offered  them. 
The  rights  of  war  have  their  limits.  No  living  man  in 
ordinary  circumstances  recognised  those  limits  more  than 
Caesar  did.  No  commander  was  more  habitually  merciful 
in  victory.  In  this  case  the  limits  had  been  ruthlessly 
exceeded.  The  Germans  were  not  indeed  defending  their 
own  country;  they  were  the  invaders  of  another;  but  they 
were  a  fine  brave  race,  overtaken  by  fate  when  doing  no 


B.  c.  55]  INVASION   OF  GERMANY  237 

more  than  their  forefathers  had  done  for  unknown  genera- 
tions. The  excuse  for  their  extermination  was  simply 
this:  that  Caesar  had  undertaken  the  conquest  of  Gaul  for 
the  defence  of  Italy.  A  powerful  party  among  the  Gauls 
themselves  were  content  to  be  annexed  to  the  Roman  Em- 
pire. The  patriots  looked  to  the  Germans  to  help  them 
in  driving  out  the  Romans.  The  Germanizing  of  Gaul 
would  lead  with  certainty  to  fresh  invasions  of  Italy;  and 
it  seemed  permissible,  and  even  necessary,  to  put  a  stop 
to  these  immigrations  once  for  all,  and  to  show  Gauls  and 
Germans  equally  that  they  were  not  to  be. 

It  was  not  enough  to  have  driven  the  Germans  out  of 
Gaul.  Caesar  respected  their  character.  He  admired 
their  abstinence  from  wine,  their  courage,  their  frugal 
habits,  and  their  pure  morality.  But  their  virtues  made 
them  only  more  dangerous;  and  he  desired  to  show  them 
that  the  Roman  arm  was  long  and  could  reach  them  even 
in  their  own  homes.  Parties  of  the  late  invaders  had  re- 
turned over  the  Rhine,  and  were  protected  by  the  Sigam- 
bri  in  Westphalia.  Caesar  had  demanded  their  surrender, 
and  the  Sigambri  had  answered  that  Roman  authority  did 
not  reach  across  the  river;  if  Caesar  forbade  Germans  to 
cross  into  Gaul,  the  Germans  would  not  allow  the  Romans 
to  dictate  to  them  in  their  own  country.  The  Ubii  were 
growing  anxious.  They  were  threatened  by  the  Sueves  for 
deserting  the  national  cause.  They  begged  Caesar  to  show 
himself  among  them,  though  his  stay  might  be  but  short,  as 
a  proof  that  he  had  power  and  will  to  protect  them;  and 
they  offered  him  boats  and  barges  to  carry  his  army  over. 
Caesar  decided  to  go,  but  to  go  with  more  ostentation. 
The  object  was  to  impress  the  German  imagination;  and 
boats  and  barges  which  might  not  always  be  obtainable 
would,  if  they  seemed  essential,  diminish  the  effect.  The 
legions  were  skilled  workmen,  able  to  turn  their  hand  to 
anything.  He  determined  to  make  a  bridge;  and  he  chose 
Bonn  for  the  site  of  it.  The  river  was  broad,  deep,  and 
rapid.  The  materials  were  still  standing  in  the  forest;  yet 
in  ten  days  from  the  first  stroke  that  was  delivered  by  an 


53S  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  55 

axe,  a  bridge  had  been  made  standing  firmly  on  rows  of  piles 
with  a  road  over  it  forty  feet  wide.  A  strong  guard  was  left 
at  each  end.  Caesar  marched  across  with  the  legions,  and 
from  all  sides  deputations  from  the  astonished  people  poured 
in  to  beg  for  peace.  The  Sigambri  had  fled  to  their  woods. 
The  Suevi  fell  back  into  the  Thuringian  forests.  He  burnt 
the  villages  of  the  Sigambri,  to  leave  the  print  of  his  pres- 
ence. He  paid  the  Ubii  a  long  visit;  and  after  remaining 
eighteen  days  beyond  the  river,  he  considered  that  his  pur- 
pose had  been  gained,  and  he  returned  to  Gaul,  destroying 
the  bridge  behind  him. 

It  was  now  about  the  beginning  of  August.  A  few 
weeks  only  of  possible  fine  weather  remained.  Gaul  was 
quiet,  not  a  tribe  was  stirring.  The  people  were  stunned  by 
Caesar's  extraordinary  performances.  West  of  the  Chan- 
nel which  washed  the  shores  of  the  Belgae  lay  an  island 
where  the  enemies  of  Rome  had  found  shelter,  and  from 
which  help  had  been  sent  to  the  rebellious  Bretons. 
Caesar,  the  most  skilful  and  prudent  of  generals,  was  yet 
adventurous  as  a  knight  errant.  There  was  still  time  for 
a  short  expedition  into  Britain.  As  yet  nothing  was 
known  of  that  country,  save  the  white  clifTs  which  could 
be  seen  from  Calais;  Roman  merchants  occasionally 
touched  there,  but  they  had  never  ventured  into  the  inte- 
rior; they  could  give  no  information  as  to  the  size  of  the 
island,  the  qualities  of  the  harbours,  the  character  or  habits 
of  the  inhabitants.  Complete  ignorance  of  such  near 
neighbours  was  undesirable  and  inconvenient;  and  Csesar 
wished  to  look  at  them  with  his  own  eyes.  The  fleet  which 
had  been  used  in  the  war  with  the  Veneti  was  sent  round 
into  the  Channel.  He  directed  Caius  Volusenus,  an  officer 
whom  he  could  trust,  to  take  a  galley  and  make  a  survey 
of  the  opposite  coast,  and  he  himself  followed  to  Boulogne, 
where  his  vessels  were  waiting  for  him.  The  gathering  of 
the  flotilla  and  its  object  had  been  reported  to  Britain,  and 
envoys  from  various  tribes  were  waiting  there  with  offers 
of  hostages  and  humble  protestations.  Caesar  received 
them  graciously,  and  sent  back  with  them  a  Gaul  named 


B.  c.  55]  FIRST   EXPEDITION    INTO   BRITAIN  239 

Commius,  whom  he  had  made  chief  of  the  Atrebates,  to 
tell  the  people  that  he  was  coming  over  as  a  friend,  and 
that  they  had  nothing  to  fear. 

Volusenus  returned  after  five  days'  absence,  having  been 
unable  to  gather  anything  of  importance.  The  ships 
which  had  come  in  were  able  only  to  take  across  two 
legions,  probably  at  less  than  their  full  complement — or 
at  most  ten  thousand  men;  but  for  Caesar's  present  pur- 
pose these  were  sufficient.  Leaving  Sabinus  and  Cotta  in 
charge  of  the  rest  of  the  army,  he  sailed  on  a  calm  even- 
ing, and  was  off  Dover  in  the  morning.  The  cliffs  were 
lined  with  painted  warriors,  and  hung  so  close  over  the 
water  that  if  he  attempted  to  land  there  stones  and  lances 
could  reach  the  boats  from  the  edge  of  the  precipice.  He 
called  his  officers  about  him  while  his  fleet  collected,  and 
said  a  few  encouraging  words  to  them;  he  then  moved  up 
the  coast  with  the  tide,  apparently  as  far  as  Walmer  or 
Deal.  Here  the  beach  was  open  and  the  water  deep  near 
the  land.  The  Britons  had  followed  by  the  brow  of  the 
cliff,  scrambling  along  with  their  cars  and  horses.  The 
shore  was  covered  with  them,  and  they  evidently  meant 
to  fight.  The  transports  anchored  where  the  water  was 
still  up  to  the  men's  shoulders.  They  were  incumbered 
with  their  arms,  and  did  not  like  the  look  of  what  was 
before  them.  Seeing  them  hesitate,  Caesar  sent  his  armed 
galleys  filled  with  archers  and  crossbowmen  to  clear  the 
approach;  and  as  the  legionaries  still  hesitated,  an  officer 
who  carried  the  eagle  of  the  Tenth  leapt  into  the  sea  and 
bade  his  comrades  follow  if  they  wished  to  save  their  stan- 
dard. They  sprang  overboard  with  a  general  cheer.  The 
Britons  rode  their  horses  into  the  waves  to  meet  them;  and 
for  a  few  minutes  the  Romans  could  make  no  progress. 
Boats  came  to  their  help,  which  kept  back  the  most  active 
of  their  opponents,  and  once  on  land  they  were  in  their 
own  element.  The  Britons  galloped  off,  and  Caesar  had 
no  cavalry. 

A  camp  was  then  formed.  Some  of  the  ships  were  left 
at  anchor,  others  were  brought  on  shore,  and  were  hauled 


240  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  55 

Up  to  the  usual  high-water  mark.  Commius  came  in  with 
deputations,  and  peace  was  satisfactorily  arranged.  All 
went  well  till  the  fourth  day,  when  the  full  moon  brought 
the  spring  tide,  of  which  the  Romans  had  no  experience 
and  had  not  provided  for  it.  Heavy  weather  came  up 
along  with  it.  The  galleys  on  the  beach  were  floated  off; 
the  transports  at  anchor  parted  their  cables;  some  were 
driven  on  shore,  some  out  into  the  Channel.  Caesar  was 
in  real  anxiety.  He  had  no  means  of  procuring  a  second 
fleet.  He  had  made  no  preparations  for  wintering  in 
Britain.  The  legions  had  come  Hght,  without  tents  or 
baggage,  as  he  meant  to  stay  no  longer  than  he  had  done 
in  Germany,  two  or  three  weeks  at  most.  Skill  and  energy 
repaired  the  damage.  The  vessels  which  had  gone  astray 
were  recovered.  Those  which  were  least  injured  were  re- 
paired with  the  materials  of  the  rest.  Twelve  only  were 
lost,  the  others  were  made  seaworthy. 

The  Britons,  as  Caesar  expected,  had  taken  heart  at  the 
disaster.  They  broke  their  agreement,  and  fell  upon  his 
outposts.  Seeing  the  small  number  of  Romans,  they  col- 
lected in  force,  in  the  hope  that  if  they  could  destroy  the 
first  comers  no  more  such  unwelcome  visitors  would  ever 
arrive  to  trouble  them.  A  sharp  action  taught  them  their 
mistake;  and  after  many  of  the  poor  creatures  had  been 
killed,  they  brought  in  hostages,  and  again  begged  for 
peace.  The  equinox  was  now  coming  on.  The  weather 
was  again  threatening.  Postponing,  therefore,  further 
inquiries  into  the  nature  of  the  British  and  their  country, 
Caesar  used  the  first  favourable  opportunity  and  returned, 
without  further  adventure,  to  Boulogne.  The  legions 
were  distributed  among  the  Belgae;  and  Caesar  himself, 
who  could  have  no  rest,  hastened  over  the  Alps  to  deal 
with  other  disturbances  which  had  broken  out  in  Illyria. 

The  bridge  over  the  Rhine  and  the  invasion  of  a  country 
so  remote  that  it  was  scarcely  believed  to  exist,  roused  the 
enthusiasm  at  Rome  beyond  the  point  which  it  had  hith- 
erto reached.  The  Roman  populace  was  accustomed  to 
victories,  but  these  were  portents  like  the  achievements 


B.  c.  54]  NAVAL  PREPARATIONS  24I 

of  the  old  demigods.  The  humbled  Senate  voted  twenty 
days  of  thanksgiving;  and  faction,  controlled  by  Pompey, 
was  obliged  to  be  silent. 

The  Illyrian  troubles  were  composed  without  fighting, 
and  the  interval  of  winter  was  spent  in  preparations  for 
a  renewal  of  the  expedition  into  Britain  on  a  larger  scale. 
Orders  had  been  left  with  the  officers  in  command  to  pre- 
pare as  many  transports  as  the  time  would  allow,  broader 
and  lower  in  the  side  for  greater  convenience  in  loading 
and  unloading.  In  April  Caesar  returned.  He  visited  the 
different  stations,  and  he  found  that  his  expert  legionaries, 
working  incessantly,  had  built  six  hundred  transports  and 
twenty-eight  armed  galleys.  All  these  were  finished  and 
ready  to  be  launched.  He  directed  that  they  should  col- 
lect at  Boulogne  as  before;  and  in  the  interval  he  paid  a 
visit  to  the  north  of  Gaul,  where  there  were  rumours  of 
fresh  correspondence  with  the  Germans.  Danger,  if  dan- 
ger there  was,  was  threatened  by  the  Treveri,  a  powerful 
tribe,  still  unbroken,  on  the  Moselle.  Caesar,  however, 
had  contrived  to  attach  the  leading  chiefs  to  the  Roman 
interest.  He  found  nothing  to  alarm  him,  and  once  more 
went  down  to  the  sea.  In  his  first  venture  he  had  been 
embarrassed  by  want  of  cavalry.  He  was  by  this  time 
personally  acquainted  with  the  most  influential  of  the 
Gallic  nobles.  He  had  requested  them  to  attend  him  into 
Britain  with  their  mounted  retinues,  both  for  service  in 
the  field  and  that  he  might  keep  these  restless  chiefs  under 
his  eye.  Among  the  rest  he  had  not  overlooked  the 
^duan  prince,  Dumnorix,  whose  intrigues  had  brought 
the  Helvetii  out  of  Switzerland,  and  whose  treachery  had 
created  difficulty  and  nearly  disaster  in  the  first  campaign. 
Dumnorix  had  not  forgotten  his  ambition.  He  had  af- 
fected penitence,  and  he  had  been  treated  with  kindness. 
He  had  availed  himself  of  the  favour  which  had  been 
shown  to  him  to  pretend  to  his  countrymen  that  Caesar 
had  promised  him  the  chieftainship.  He  had  petitioned 
earnestly  to  be  excused  from  accompanying  the  expedi- 
tion, and,  Caesar  having  for  this  reason  probably  the  more 
16 


242  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  54 

insisted  upon  it,  he  had  persuaded  the  other  chiefs  that 
Caesar  meant  to  destroy  them,  and  that  if  they  went  to 
Britain  they  would  never  return.  These  whisperings  were 
reported  to  Caesar.  Dumnorix  had  come  to  Boulogne 
with  the  rest,  and  he  ordered  him  to  be  watched.  A  long 
westerly  wind  had  prevented  Caesar  from  embarking  as 
soon  as  he  had  wished.  The  weather  changed  at  last,  and 
the  troops  were  ordered  on  board.  Dumnorix  slipped 
away  in  the  confusion  with  a  party  of  ^duan  horse,  and 
it  was  now  certain  that  he  had  sinister  intentions.  The 
embarkation  was  suspended.  A  detachment  of  cavalry 
was  sent  in  pursuit,  with  directions  to  bring  Dumnorix 
back  dead  or  alive.     Dumnorix  resisted  and  was  killed. 

No  disturbance  followed  on  his  death.  The  remaining 
chiefs  were  loyal,  or  wished  to  appear  loyal,  and  further 
delay  was  unnecessary.  Labienus,  whom  Caesar  thor- 
oughly trusted,  remained  behind  with  three  legions  and 
two  thousand  horse  to  watch  over  Gaul;  and  on  a  fine 
summer  evening,  with  a  light  air  from  the  south,  Caesar 
sailed  at  sunset  on  the  20th  of  July.  He  had  five  legions 
with  him.  He  had  as  many  cavalry  as  he  had  left  with 
Labienus.  His  flotilla,  swollen  by  volunteers,  amounted 
to  eight  hundred  vessels,  small  and  great.  At  sunrise  they 
were  in  midchannel,  lying  in  a  dead  calm,  with  the  cliffs  of 
Britain  plainly  visible  on  their  left  hand.  The  tide  was 
flowing.  Oars  were  out;  the  legionaries  worked  with  such 
enthusiasm  that  the  transports  kept  abreast  of  the  war  gal- 
leys. At  noon  they  had  reached  the  beach  at  Deal,  where 
this  time  they  found  no  enemy  to  oppose  their  landing; 
the  Britons  had  been  terrified  at  the  multitude  of  ships  and 
boats  in  which  the  power  of  Rome  was  descending  on 
them,  and  had  fled  into  the  interior.  The  water  was 
smooth,  the  disembarkation  easy.  A  camp  was  drawn  out 
and  intrenched,  and  six  thousand  men,  with  a  few  hundred 
horse,  were  told  off  to  guard  it.  The  fleet  was  left  riding 
quietly  at  anchor,  the  pilots  ignorant  of  the  meaning  of 
the  treacherous  southern  air  which  had  been  so  welcome 
to  them;  and  Caesar  advanced  inland  as  far  as  the  Stour, 


B.  c.  54]  SECOND  INVASION  OF  BRITAIN  243 

The  Britons,  after  an  unsuccessful  stand  to  prevent  the 
Romans  from  crossing  the  river,  retired  into  the  woods, 
where  they  had  made  themselves  a  fortress  with  felled 
trees.  The  weak  defence  was  easily  stormed;  the  Britons 
were  fiying;  the  Romans  were  preparing  to  follow;  when 
an  express  came  from  Deal  to  tell  Caesar  that  a  gale  had 
risen  again  and  the  fleet  was  lying  wrecked  upon  the  shore. 
A  second  accident  of  the  same  kind  might  have  seemed  an 
omen  of  evil,  but  Caesar  did  not  believe  in  omens.  The 
even  temperament  of  his  mind  was  never  discomposed,  and 
at  each  moment  he  was  able  always  to  decide,  and  to  do, 
what  the  moment  required.  The  army  was  halted.  He 
rode  back  himself  to  the  camp,  to  find  that  forty  of  his 
vessels  only  were  entirely  ruined.  The  rest  were  injured, 
but  not  irreparably.  They  were  hauled  up  within  the 
lines  of  the  camp.  He  selected  the  best  mechanics  out  of 
the  legions;  he  sent  across  to  Labienus  for  more,  and 
directed  him  to  build  fresh  transports  in  the  yards  at 
Boulogne.  The  men  worked  night  and  day,  and  in  Httle 
more  than  a  week  Caesar  was  able  to  rejoin  his  troops  and 
renew  his  march. 

The  object  of  the  invasion  had  been  rather  to  secure  the 
quiet  of  Gaul  than  the  annexation  of  new  subjects  and 
further  territory.  But  it  could  not  be  obtained  till  the 
Romans  had  measured  themselves  against  the  Britons  and 
had  asserted  their  military  superiority.  The  Britons  had 
already  shown  themselves  a  fearless  race,  who  could  not 
be  despised.  They  fought  bravely  from  their  cars  and 
horses,  retreated  rapidly  when  overmatched,  and  were 
found  dangerous  when  pursued.  Encouraged  by  the  re- 
port of  the  disaster  to  the  fleet,  Cassibelaunus,  chief  of  the 
Cassi,  whose  headquarters  were  at  St.  Albans,  had  col- 
lected a  considerable  army  from  both  sides  of  the  Thames, 
and  was  found  in  strength  in  Caesar^s  front  when  he  again 
began  to  move.  They  attacked  his  foraging  parties. 
They  set  on  fire  his  flanking  detachments.  They  left  their 
cars  and  fought  on  foot  when  they  could  catch  an  advan- 
tage; and  remounted  and  were  swiftly  out  of  the  reach  of 


244  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  54 

the  heavily  armed  Roman  infantry.  The  GauHsh  horse 
pursued,  but  did  not  know  the  country,  and  suffered  more 
harm  than  they  inflicted.  Thus  the  British  gave  Caesar 
considerable  trouble,  which  he  recorded  to  their  credit. 
Not  a  word  can  be  found  in  his  ''  Commentaries  "  to  the 
disparagement  of  brave  and  open  adversaries.  At  length 
he  forced  them  into  a  battle,  where  their  best  warriors  were 
killed.  The  confederacy  of  tribes  dissolved,  and  never  ral- 
Hed  again,  and  he  pursued  his  march  thenceforward  with 
little  molestation.  He  crossed  the  Medway,  and  reached 
the  Thames  seemingly  at  Sunbury.  There  was  a  ford 
there,  but  the  river  was  still  deep,  the  ground  was  staked, 
and  Cassibelaunus  with  his  own  people  was  on  the  other 
side.  The  legions,  however,  paid  small  attention  to  Cassi- 
belaunus; they  plunged  through  with  the  water  at  their 
necks.  The  Britons  dispersed,  driving  off  their  cattle,  and 
watching  his  march  from  a  distance.  The  tribes  from  the 
eastern  counties  made  their  submission,  and  at  Caesar's 
orders  supplied  him  with  corn.  Caesar  marched  on  to  St. 
Albans  itself,  then  lying  in  the  midst  of  forests  and 
marshes,  where  the  cattle,  the  Cassi's  only  wealth,  had 
been  collected  for  security.  St.  Albans  and  the  cattle  were 
taken;  Cassibelaunus  sued  for  peace;  the  days  were  draw- 
ing in;  and  Caesar,  having  no  intention  of  wintering  in 
Britain,  considered  he  had  done  enough  and  need  go  no 
farther.  He  returned  as  he  had  come.  The  Kentish  men 
had  attacked  the  camp  in  his  absence,  but  had  been  beaten 
off  with  heavy  loss.  The  Romans  had  sallied  out  upon 
them,  killed  as  many  as  they  could  catch,  and  taken  one 
of  their  chiefs.  Thenceforward  they  had  been  left  in  quiet. 
A  nominal  tribute,  which  was  never  paid,  was  assigned  to 
the  tribes  who  had  submitted.  The  fleet  was  in  order,  and 
all  was  ready  for  departure.  The  only,  but  unhappily  too 
valuable,  booty  which  they  had  carried  off  consisted  of 
some  thousands  of  prisoners.  These,  when  landed  in 
Gaul,  were  disposed  of  to  contractors,  to  be  carried  to 
Italy  and  sold  as  slaves.  Two  trips  were  required  to  trans- 
port the  increased  numbers;  but  the  passage  was  accom- 


B.  c.  54]  SECOND   INVASION  OF  BRITAIN  245 

plished  without  accident,  and  the  whole  army  was  again 
at  Boulogne. 

Thus  ended  the  expedition  into  Britain.  It  had  been 
undertaken  rather  for  effect  than  for  material  advantage; 
and  everything  which  had  been  aimed  at  had  been  gained. 
The  Gauls  looked  no  more  across  the  Channel  for  support 
of  insurrections;  the  Romans  talked  with  admiration  for 
a  century  of  the  far  land  to  which  Caesar  had  borne  the 
eagles;  and  no  exploit  gave  him  more  fame  with  his  con- 
temporaries. Nor  was  it  without  use  to  have  solved  a 
geographical  problem,  and  to  have  discovered  with  cer- 
tainty what  the  country  was,  the  white  cliffs  of  which  were 
visible  from  the  shores  which  were  now  Roman  territory. 
Caesar,  during  his  stay  in  Britain,  had  acquired  a  fairly 
accurate  notion  of  it.  He  knew  that  it  was  an  island,  and 
he  knew  its  dimensions  and  shape.  He  knew  that  Ireland 
lay  to  the  west  of  it,  and  Ireland,  he  had  been  told,  was 
about  half  its  size.  He  had  heard  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  and 
how  it  was  situated.  To  the  extreme  north  above  Britain 
he  had  ascertained  that  there  were  other  islands,  where  in 
winter  the  sun  scarcely  rose  above  the  horizon;  and  he  had 
observed  through  accurate  measurement  by  water-clocks 
that  the  midsummer  nights  in  Britain  were  shorter  than 
in  the  south  of  France  and  Italy.  He  had  inquired  into 
the  natural  products  of  the  country.  There  were  tin 
mines,  he  found,  in  parts  of  the  island,  and  iron  in  small 
quantities;  but  copper  was  imported  from  the  Continent. 
The  vegetation  resembled  that  of  France,  save  that  he  saw 
no  beech  and  no  spruce  pine.  Of  more  consequence  were 
the  people  and  the  distribution  of  them.  The  Britons  of 
the  interior  he  conceived  to  be  indigenous.  The  coast 
was  chiefly  occupied  by  immigrants  from  Belgium,  as 
could  be  traced  in  the  nomenclature  of  places.  The  coun- 
try seemed  thickly  inhabited.  The  flocks  and  herds  were 
large;  and  farm  buildings  were  frequent,  resembling  those 
in  Gaul.  In  Kent  especially,  civilization  was  as  far  ad- 
vanced as  on  the  opposite  continent.  The  Britons  proper 
from  the  interior  showed  fewer  signs  of  progress.     They 


246  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  54 

did  not  break  the  ground  for  corn;  they  had  no  manu- 
factures; they  lived  on  meat  and  milk,  and  were  dressed  in 
leather.  They  dyed  their  skins  blue  that  they  might  look 
more  terrible.  They  wore  their  hair  long,  and  had  long 
mustaches.  In  their  habits  they  had  not  risen  out  of  the 
lowest  order  of  savagery.  They  had  wives  in  common, 
and  brothers  and  sisters,  parents  and  children,  lived  to- 
gether with  promiscuous  unrestraint.  From  such  a  coun- 
try not  much  was  to  be  gained  in  the  way  of  spoil;  nor  had 
much  been  expected.  Since  Cicero's  conversion,  his 
brother  Quintus  had  joined  Caesar,  and  was  now  attending 
him  as  one  of  his  lieutenant-generals.  The  brothers  were 
in  intimate  correspondence.  Cicero,  though  he  watched 
the  British  expedition  with  interest,  anticipated  that 
Quintus  would  bring  nothing  of  value  back  with  him  but 
slaves;  and  he  warned  his  friend  Atticus,  who  dealt  ex- 
tensively in  such  commodities,  that  the  slaves  from  Britain 
would  not  be  found  of  superior  quality.^ 

Notes 

'  Page  234.  Nassau  and  Darmstadt. 

*Page  246.  "  Britannici  belli  exitus  exspectatur.  Constat  enim,  aditus 
insulse  esse  munitos  mirificis  molibus.  Etiam  illud  jam  cognitum  est, 
neque  argenti  scrupulum  esse  ullum  in  ilia  insult,  neque  ullam  spem 
prsedse,  nisi  ex  mancipiis:  ex  quibis  nullos  puto  te  litteris  aut  musicis 
eruditos  exspectare." — Ad  Atticum,  iv.  16.  It  does  not  appear  what 
Cicero  meant  by  the  "  mirificae  moles  "  which  guarded  the  approaches 
to  Britain,  whether  Dover  Cliff  or  the  masses  of  sand  under  water  at 
the  Goodwins. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  summer  had  passed  off  gloriously  for  the  Ro- 
man arms.  The  expedition  to  Britain  had  pro- 
duced all  the  effects  which  Caesar  expected  from 
it,  and  Gaul  was  outwardly  calm.  Below  the  smooth 
appearance  the  elements  of  disquiet  were  silently  working, 
and  the  winter  was  about  to  produce  the  most  serious  dis- 
aster and  the  sharpest  trials  which  Caesar  had  yet  experi- 
enced. On  his  return  from  Britain  he  held  a  council  at 
Amiens.  The  harvest  had  been  bad,  and  it  was  found 
expedient,  for  their  better  provision,  to  disperse  the  troops 
over  a  broader  area  than  usual.  There  were  in  all  eight 
legions,  with  part  of  another  to  be  disposed  of,  and  they 
were  distributed  in  the  following  order:  Lucius  Roscius 
was  placed  at  Seex,  in  Normandy;  Quintus  Cicero  at 
Charleroy,  not  far  from  the  scene  of  the  battle  with  the 
Nervii.  Cicero  had  chosen  this  position  for  himself  as 
peculiarly  advantageous;  and  his  brother  speaks  of  Caesar's 
acquiescence  in  the  arrangement  as  a  special  mark  of 
favour  to  himself.  Labienus  was  at  Lavacherie,  on  the 
Ourthe,  about  seventy  miles  to  the  southeast  of  Cicero; 
and  Sabinus  and  Cotta  were  at  Tongres,  among  the  Adua- 
tuci,  not  far  from  Liege,  an  equal  distance  from  him  to 
the  northeast.  Caius  Fabius  had  a  legion  at  St.  Pol,  be- 
tween Calais  and  Arras;  Trebonius  one  at  Amiens;  Marcus 
Crassus  one  at  Montdidier;  Munatius  Plancus  one  across 
the  Oise,  near  Compiegne.  Roscius  was  far  off,  but  in 
a  comparatively  quiet  country.  The  other  camps  lay 
within  a  circle,  two  hundred  miles  in  diameter,  of  which 
Bavay  was  the  centre.  Amiens  was  at  one  point  on  the 
circumference.  Tongres,  on  the  opposite  side  of  it,  to  the 
northeast.  Sabinus,  being  the  most  exposed,  had,  in  ad- 
dition to  his  legion,  a  few  cohorts  lately  raised  in  Italy. 

247 


248  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  54 

Caesar,  having  no  particular  business  to  take  him  over  the 
Alps,  remained  with  Trebonius  attending  to  general  busi- 
ness.  His  dispositions  had  been  carefully  watched  by  the 
Gauls.  Caesar,  they  supposed,  would  go  away  as  usual; 
they  even  believed  that  he  had  gone;  and  a  conspiracy  was 
formed  in  the  north  to  destroy  the  legions  in  detail. 

The  instigator  of  the  movement  was  Induciomarus,  the 
leader  of  the  patriot  party  among  the  Treveri,  whose  in- 
trigues had  taken  Caesar  to  the  Moselle  before  the  first  visit 
to  Britain.  At  that  time  Induciomarus  had  been  able  to 
do  nothing;  but  a  fairer  opportunity  had  arrived.  The 
overthrow  of  the  great  German  horde  had  affected  power- 
fully the  semi-Teutonic  populations  on  the  left  bank  of 
the  Rhine.  The  Eburones,  a  large  tribe  of  German  race 
occupying  the  country  between  Liege  and  Cologne,  had 
given  in  their  submission ;  but  their  strength  was  still  undi- 
minished, and  Induciomarus  prevailed  on  their  two  chiefs, 
Ambiorix  and  Catavolcus,  to  attack  Sabinus  and  Cotta. 
It  was  midwinter.  The  camp  at  Tongres  was  isolated. 
The  nearest  support  was  seventy  miles  distant.  If  one 
Roman  camp  was  taken  Induciomarus  calculated  that  the 
country  would  rise;  the  others  could  be  separately  sur- 
rounded, and  Gaul  would  be  fre^.  The  plot  was  well  laid. 
An  intrenched  camp  being  difficult  to  storm,  the  confed- 
erates decided  to  begin  by  treachery.  Ambiorix  was  per- 
sonally known  to  many  of  the  Roman  officers.  He  sent 
to  Sabinus  to  say  that  he  wished  to  communicate  with  him 
on  a  matter  of  the  greatest  consequence.  An  interview 
being  granted,  he  stated  that  a  general  conspiracy  had 
been  formed  through  the  whole  of  Gaul  to  surprise  and 
destroy  the  legions.  Each  station  was  to  be  attacked  on 
the  same  day  that  they  might  be  unable  to  support  each 
other.  He  pretended  himself  to  have  remonstrated;  but 
his  tribe,  he  said,  had  been  carried  away  by  the  general 
enthusiasm  for  liberty,  and  he  could  not  keep  them  back. 
Vast  bodies  of  Germans  had  crossed  the  Rhine  to  join  in 
the  war.  In  two  days  at  the  furthest  they  would  arrive. 
He  was  under  private  obligations  to  Caesar,  who  had  res- 


B.  c.  54]  REVOLT  OF  THE  EBU  RONES  249 

cued  his  son  and  nephew  in  the  fight  with  the  Aduatuci, 
and  out  of  gratitude  he  wished  to  save  Sabinus  from 
destruction,  which  was  otherwise  inevitable.  He  urged 
him  to  escape  while  there  was  still  time,  and  to  join  either 
Labienus  or  Cicero,  giving  a  solemn  promise  that  he 
should  not  be  molested  on  the  road. 

A  council  of  officers  was  held  on  the  receipt  of  this  un- 
welcome information.  It  was  thought  unlikely  that  the 
Eburones  would  rise  by  themselves.  It  was  probable 
enough,  therefore,  that  the  conspiracy  was  more  exten- 
sive. Cotta,  who  was  second  in  command,  was  of 
opinion  that  it  would  be  rash  and  wrong  to  leave  the  camp 
without  Caesar's  orders.  They  had  abundant  provisions. 
They  could  hold  their  own  lines  against  any  force  which 
the  Germans  could  bring  upon  them,  and  help  would  not 
be  long  in  reaching  them.  It  would  be  preposterous  to 
take  so  grave  a  step  on  the  advice  of  an  enemy.  Sabinus 
unfortunately  thought  differently.  He  had  been  over- 
cautious in  Brittany,  though  he  had  afterward  redeemed 
his  fault.  Caesar,  he  persuaded  himself,  had  left  the  coun- 
try; each  commander  therefore  must  act  on  his  own  re- 
sponsibility. The  story  told  by  Ambiorix  was  likely  in 
itself.  The  Germans  were  known  to  be  furious  at  the  pas- 
sage of  the  Rhine,  the  destruction  of  Ariovistus  and  their 
other  defeats.  Gaul  resented  the  loss  of  its  independence. 
Ambiorix  was  acting  like  a  true  friend,  and  it  would  be 
madness  to  refuse  his  offer.  Two  days'  march  would 
bring  them  to  their  friends.  If  the  alarm  was  false,  they 
could  return.  If  there  was  to  be  a  general  insurrection, 
the  legions  could  not  be  too  speedily  brought  together. 
If  they  waited,  as  Cotta  advised,  they  would  be  sur- 
rounded, and  in  the  end  would  be  starved  into  surrender. 

Cotta  was  not  convinced,  and  the  majority  of  the  officers 
supported  him.  The  first  duty  of  a  Roman  army,  he  said, 
was  obedience  to  orders.  Their  business  was  to  hold  the 
post  which  had  been  committed  to  them  till  they  were 
otherwise  directed.  The  officers  were  consulting  in  the 
midst  of  the  camp,  surrounded  by  the  legionaries.     "  Have 


250  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  54 

it  as  you  wish,"  Sabinus  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  which  the 
men  could  hear;  "  I  am  not  afraid  of  being  killed.  If 
things  go  amiss,  the  troops  will  understand  where  to  lay 
the  blame.  If  you  allowed  it  they  might  in  forty-eight 
hours  be  at  the  next  quarters,  facing  the  chances  of  war 
with  their  comrades,  instead  of  perishing  here  alone  by 
sword  or  hunger." 

Neither  party  would  give  way.  The  troops  joined  in 
the  discussion.  They  were  willing  either  to  go  or  to  stay, 
if  their  commanders  would  agree;  but  they  said  that  it 
must  be  one  thing  or  the  other;  disputes  would  be  certain 
ruin.  The  discussion  lasted  till  midnight.  Sabinus  was 
obstinate,  Cotta  at  last  withdrew  his  opposition,  and  the 
fatal  resolution  was  formed  to  march  at  dawn.  The  re- 
maining hours  of  the  night  were  passed  by  the  men  in 
collecting  such  valuables  as  they  wished  to  take  with  them. 
Everything  seemed  ingeniously  done  to  increase  the  diffi- 
culty of  remaining,  and  to  add  to  the  perils  of  the  march 
by  the  exhaustion  of  the  troops.  The  Meuse  lay  between 
them  and  Labienus,  so  they  had  selected  to  go  to  Cicero 
at  Charleroy.  Their  course  lay  up  the  left  bank  of  the 
Httle  river  Geer.  Trusting  to  the  promises  of  Ambiorix, 
they  started  in  loose  order,  followed  by  a  long  train  of 
carts  and  waggons.  The  Eburones  lay  waiting  for  them 
in  a  large  valley  two  miles  from  the  camp.  When  most 
of  the  cohorts  were  entangled  in  the  middle  of  the  hollow, 
the  enemy  appeared  suddenly,  some  in  front,  some  on  both 
sides  of  the  valley,  some  behind  threatening  the  baggage. 
Wise  men,  as  Caesar  says,  anticipate  possible  difficulties 
and  decide  beforehand  what  they  will  do  if  occasions  arise. 
Sabinus  had  foreseen  nothing  and  arranged  nothing. 
Cotta,  who  had  expected  what  might  happen,  was  better 
prepared,  and  did  the  best  that  was  possible.  The  men 
had  scattered  among  the  waggons,  each  to  save  or  protect 
what  he  could.  Cotta  ordered  them  back,  bade  them 
leave  the  carts  to  their  fate,  and  form  together  in  a  ring. 
He  did  right.  Caesar  thought;  but  the  effect  was  unfortu- 
nate.    The  troops  lost  heart,  and  the  enemy  was  encour- 


B.C.  54]  REVOLT  OF  THE  EBURONES  251 

aged,  knowing  that  the  baggage  would  only  be  abandoned 
when  the  position  was  desperate.  The  Eburones  were 
under  good  command.  They  did  not,  as  might  have  been 
expected,  fly  upon  the  plunder.  They  stood  to  their  work, 
well  aware  that  the  carts  would  not  escape  them.  They 
were  not  in  great  numbers.  Caesar  specially  says  that  the 
Romans  were  as  numerous  as  they.  But  everything  else 
was  against  the  Romans.  Sabinus  could  give  no  direc- 
tions. They  were  in  a  narrow  meadow,  with  wooded  hills 
on  each  side  of  them  filled  with  enemies  whom  they  could 
not  reach.  When  they  charged,  the  light-footed  bar- 
barians ran  back;  when  they  retired,  they  closed  in  upon 
them  again,  and  not  a  dart,  an  arrow,  or  a  stone  missed  its 
mark  among  the  crowded  cohorts.  Bravely  as  the  Ro- 
mans fought,  they  were  in  a  trap  where  their  courage  was 
useless  to  them.  The  battle  lasted  from  dawn  till  the  after- 
noon, and  though  they  were  falling  fast,  there  was  no 
flinching  and  no  cowardice.  Caesar,  who  inquired  particu- 
larly into  the  minutest  circumstances  of  the  disaster, 
records  by  name  the  officers  who  distinguished  themselves; 
he  mentions  one  whose  courage  he  had  marked  before, 
who  was  struck  down  with  a  lance  through  his  thighs,  and 
another  who  was  killed  rescuing  his  son.  The  brave 
Cotta  was  hit  in  the  mouth  by  a  stone  as  he  was  cheering 
on  his  men.  The  end  came  at  last.  Sabinus,  helpless  and 
distracted,  caught  sight  of  Ambiorix  in  the  confusion,  and 
sent  an  interpreter  to  implore  him  to  spare  the  remainder 
of  the  army.  Ambiorix  answered  that  Sabinus  might 
come  to  him  if  he  pleased;  he  hoped  he  might  persuade  his 
tribe  to  be  merciful;  he  promised  that  Sabinus  himself 
should  suffer  no  injury.  Sabinus  asked  Cotta  to  accom- 
pany him.  Cotta  said  he  would  never  surrender  to  an 
armed  enemy;  and,  wounded  as  he  was,  he  stayed  with  the 
legion.  Sabinus,  followed  by  the  rest  of  the  surviving 
officers  whom  he  ordered  to  attend  him,  proceeded  to  the 
spot  where  the  chief  was  standing.  They  were  com- 
manded to  lay  down  their  arms.  They  obeyed,  and  were 
immediately  killed;  and  with  one  wild  yell  the  barbarians 


252  JULIUS   CvESAR  [b.  c.  54 

then  rushed  in  a  mass  on  the  deserted  cohorts.  Cotta  fell, 
and  most  of  the  others  with  him.  The  survivors,  with  the 
eagle  of  the  legion,  which  they  had  still  faithfully  guarded, 
struggled  back  in  the  dusk  to  their  deserted  camp.  The 
standard-bearer,  surrounded  by  enemies,  reached  the  fosse, 
flung  the  eagle  over  the  rampart,  and  fell  with  the  last 
effort.  Those  that  were  left  fought  on  till  night,  and  then, 
seeing  that  hope  was  gone,  died  like  Romans  on  each 
other's  swords — a  signal  illustration  of  the  Roman  great- 
ness of  mind,  which  had  died  out  among  the  degenerate 
patricians,  but  was  living  in  all  its  force  in  Caesar's  legions. 
A  few  stragglers,  who  had  been  cut  off  during  the  battle 
from  their  comrades,  escaped  in  the  night  through  the 
woods,  and  carried  the  news  to  Labienus.  Cicero,  at 
Charleroy,  was  left  in  ignorance.  The  roads  were  beset, 
and  no  messenger  could  reach  him. 

Induciomarus  understood  his  countrymen.  The  con- 
spiracy with  which  he  had  frightened  Sabinus  had  not  as 
yet  extended  beyond  a  few  northern  chiefs,  but  the  success 
of  Ambiorix  produced  the  effect  which  he  desired.  As 
soon  as  it  was  known  that  two  Roman  generals  had  been 
cut  off,  the  remnants  of  the  Aduatuci  and  the  Nervii  were 
in  arms  for  their  own  revenge.  The  smaller  tribes  along 
the  Meuse  and  Sambre  rose  with  them;  and  Cicero,  taken 
by  surprise,  found  himself  surrounded  before  he  had  a 
thought  of  danger.  The  Gauls,  knowing  that  their 
chances  depended  on  the  capture  of  the  second  camp  before 
assistance  could  arrive,  flung  themselves  so  desperately  on 
the  intrenchments  that  the  legionaries  were  barely  able  to 
repel  the  first  assault.  The  assailants  were  driven  back 
at  last,  and  Cicero  despatched  messengers  to  Caesar  to 
Amiens,  to  give  him  notice  of  the  rising;  but  not  a  man  was 
able  to  penetrate  through  the  multitude  of  enemies  which 
now  swarmed  in  the  woods.  The  troops  worked  gal- 
lantly, strengthening  the  weak  points  of  their  fortifications. 
In  one  night  they  raised  a  hundred  and  twenty  towers  on 
their  walls.  Again  the  Gauls  tried  a  storm,  and,  though 
they  failed  a  second  time,  they  left  the  garrison  no  rest 


B.  c.  54]  QUINTUS  CICERO  BESIEGED  253 

either  by  day  or  night.  There  was  no  leisure  for  sleep; 
not  a  hand  could  be  spared  from  the  lines  to  care  for  the 
sick  or  wounded.  Cicero  was  in  bad  health,  but  he  clung 
to  his  work  till  the  men  carried  him  by  force  to  his  tent 
and  obliged  him  to  lie  down.  The  first  surprise  not  hav- 
ing succeeded,  the  Nervian  chiefs,  who  knew  Cicero,  de- 
sired a  parley.  They  told  the  same  story  which  Ambiorix 
had  told,  that  the  Germans  had  crossed  the  Rhine,  and  that 
all  Gaul  was  in  arms.  They  informed  him  of  the  destruc- 
tion of  Sabinus;  they  warned  him  that  the  same  fate  was 
hanging,  over  himself,  and  that  his  only  hope  was  in  sur- 
render. They  did  not  wish,  they  said,  to  hurt  either  him 
or  the  Roman  people;  he  and  his  troops  would  be  free  to 
go  where  they  pleased,  but  they  were  determined  to  pre- 
vent the  legions  from  quartering  themselves  permanently 
in  their  country. 

There  was  but  one  Sabinus  in  the  Roman  army. 
Cicero  answered  with  a  spirit  worthy  of  his  country,  that 
Romans  accepted  no  c6nditions  from  enemies  in  arms. 
The  Gauls  might,  if  they  pleased,  send  a  deputation  to 
Caesar,  and  hear  what  he  would  say  to  them.  For  him- 
self, he  had  no  authority  to  listen  to  them.  Force  and 
treachery  being  alike  unavailing,  they  resolved  to  starve 
Cicero  out.  They  had  watched  the  Roman  strategy. 
They  had  seen  and  felt  the  value  of  the  intrenchments. 
They  made  a  bank  and  ditch  all  round  the  camp,  and, 
though  they  had  no  tools  but  their  swords  with  which  to 
dig  turf  and  cut  trees,  so  many  there  were  of  them  that 
the  work  was  completed  in  three  hours.^  Having  thus 
pinned  the  Romans  in,  they  slung  red-hot  balls  and  flung 
darts  carrying  lighted  straw  over  the  ramparts  of  the  camp 
on  the  thatched  roofs  of  the  soldiers'  huts.  The  wind  was 
high,  the  fire  spread,  and  amidst  the  smoke  and  the  blaze 
the  Gauls  again  rushed  on  from  all  sides  to  the  assault. 
Roman  discipline  was  never  more  severely  tried,  and  never 
showed  its  excellence  more  signally.  The  houses  and 
stores  of  the  soldiers  were  in  flames  behind  them.  The 
enemy  were  pressing  on  the  walls  in  front,  covered  by  a 


254  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  54 

Storm  of  javelins  and  stones  and  arrows,  but  not  a  man 
left  his  post  to  save  his  property  or  to  extinguish  the  fire. 
They  fought  as  they  stood,  striking  down  rank  after  rank 
of  the  Gauls,  who  still  crowded  on,  trampling  on  the  bodies 
of  their  companions,  as  the  foremost  lines  fell  dead  into  the 
ditch.  Such  as  reached  the  wall  never  left  it  alive,  for 
they  were  driven  forward  by  the  throng  behind  on  the 
swords  of  the  legionaries.  Thousands  of  them  had  fallen 
before,  in  desperation,  they  drew  back  at  last. 

But  Cicero's  situation  was  almost  desperate  too.  The 
huts  were  destroyed.  The  majority  of  the  men  were 
wounded,  and  those  able  to  bear  arms  were  daily  growing 
weaker  in  number.  Caesar  was  120  miles  distant,  and  no 
word  had  reached  him  of  the  danger.  Messengers  were 
again  sent  off,  but  they  were  caught  one  after  another, 
and  were  tortured  to  death  in  front  of  the  ramparts,  and 
the  boldest  men  shrank  from  risking  their  lives  on  so  hope- 
less an  enterprise.  At  length  a  Nervian  slave  was  found 
to  make  another  adventure.  He  was  a  Gaul,  and  could 
easily  disguise  himself.  A  letter  to  Caesar  was  inclosed  in 
the  shaft  of  his  javelin.  He  glided  out  of  the  camp  in  the 
dark,  passed  undetected  among  the  enemies  as  one  of 
themselves,  and,  escaping  from  their  lines,  made  his  way 
to  Amiens. 

Swiftness  of  movement  was  Caesar's  distinguishing  ex-: 
cellence.  The  legions  were  kept  ready  to  march  at  an 
hour's  notice.  He  sent  an  order  to  Crassus  to  join  him 
instantly  from  Montdidier.  He  sent  to  Fabius  at  St.  Pol 
to  meet  him  at  Arras.  He  wrote  to  Labienus,  telling  him 
the  situation,  and  leaving  him  to  his  discretion  to  advance 
or  to  remain  on  his  guard  at  Lavacherie,  as  might  seem 
most  prudent.  Not  caring  to  wait  for  the  rest  of  his  army, 
and  leaving  Crassus  to  take  care  of  Amiens,  he  started 
himself,  the  morning  after  the  information  reached  him, 
with  Trebonius's  legion  to  Cicero's  relief.  Fabius  joined 
him,  as  he  had  been  directed,  at  Arras.  He  had  hoped  for 
Labienus's  presence  also;  but  Labienus  sent  to  say  that 
he  was  surrounded  by  the  Treveri,  and  dared  not  stir. 


B.  c.  54]  RELIEF  OF  CICERO  255 

Caesar  approved  his  hesitation,  and  with  but  two  legions, 
amounting  in  all  to  only  7000  men,  he  hurried  forward 
to  the  Nervian  border.  Learning  that  Cicero  was  still 
holding  out,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  him  in  Greek,  that  it  might 
be  unintelligible  if  intercepted,  to  tell  him  that  help  was 
near.  A  Gaul  carried  the  letter,  and  fastened  it  by  a  line 
to  his  javelin,  which  he  flung  over  Cicero's  rampart.  The 
javelin  stuck  in  the  side  of  one  of  the  towers,  and  was  un- 
observed for  several  days.  The  besiegers  were  better  in- 
formed. They  learnt  that  Caesar  was  at  hand,  that  he  had 
but  a  handful  of  men  with  him.  By  that  time  their  own 
numbers  had  risen  to  60,000,  and,  leaving  Cicero  to  be  dealt 
with  at  leisure,  they  moved  off  to  envelop  and  destroy 
their  great  enemy.  Caesar  was  well  served  by  spies.  He 
knew  that  Cicero  was  no  longer  in  immediate  danger,  and 
there  was  thus  no  occasion  for  him  to  risk  a  battle  at  a  dis- 
advantage to  relieve  him.  When  he  found  the  Gauls  near 
him,  he  encamped,  drawing  his  lines  as  narrowly  as  he 
could,  that  from  the  small  show  which  he  made  they  might 
imagine  his  troops  to  be  even  fewer  than  they  were.  He 
invited  attack  by  an  ostentation  of  timidity,  and  having 
tempted  the  Gauls  to  become  the  assailants,  he  fiung  open 
his  gates,  rushed  out  upon  them  with  his  whole  force,  and 
all  but  annihilated  them.  The  patriot  army  was  broken 
to  pieces,  and  the  unfortunate  Nervii  and  Aduatuci  never 
rallied  from  this  second  blow.  Caesar  could  then  go  at  his 
leisure  to  Cicero  and  his  comrades,  who  had  fought  so 
nobly  against  such  desperate  odds.  In  every  ten  men  he 
found  that  there  was  but  one  unwounded.  He  inquired 
with  minute  curiosity  into  every  detail  of  the  siege.  In  a 
general  address  he  thanked  Cicero  and  the  whole  legion. 
He  thanked  the  ofBcers  man  by  man  for  their  gallantry 
and  fidelity.  Now  for  the  first  time  (and  that  he  could 
have  remained  ignorant  of  it  so  long  speaks  for  the  passion- 
ate unanimity  with  which  the  Gauls  had  risen)  he  learnt 
from  prisoners  the  fate  of  Sabinus.  He  did  not  under- 
rate the  greatness  of  the  catastrophe.  The  soldiers  in  the 
army  he  trusted  always  as  friends  and  comrades  in  arms, 


256  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  54 

and  the  loss  of  so  many  of  them  was  as  personally  grievous 
to  him  as  the  effects  of  it  might  be  politically  mischievous. 
He  made  it  the  subject  of  a  second  speech  to  his  own  and 
to  Cicero's  troops,  but  he  spoke  to  encourage  and  to  con- 
sole. A  serious  misfortune  had  happened,  he  said,  through 
the  fault  of  one  of  his  generals,  but  it  must  be  borne  with 
equanimity,  and  had  already  been  heroically  expiated. 
The  meeting  with  Cicero  must  have  been  an  interesting 
one.  He  and  the  two  Ciceros  had  been  friends  and  com- 
panions in  youth.  It  would  have  been  well  if  Marcus  Tul- 
lius  could  have  remembered  in  the  coming  years  the 
personal  exertion  with  which  Caesar  had  rescued  a  brother 
to  whom  he  was  so  warmly  attached. 

Communications  among  the  Gauls  were  feverishly  rapid. 
While  the  Nervii  were-  attacking  Cicero,  Induciomarus 
and  the  Treveri  had  surrounded  Labienus  at  Lavacherie. 
Caesar  had  entered  Cicero's  camp  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.  The  news  reached  Induciomarus  before  mid- 
night, and  he  had  disappeared  by  the  morning.  Caesar 
returned  to  Amiens,  but  the  whole  country  was  now  in  a 
state  of  excitement.  He  had  intended  to  go  to  Italy,  but 
he  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  departure.  Rumours  came  of 
messengers  hurrying  to  and  fro,  of  meetings  at  night  in 
lonely  places,  of  confederacies  among  the  patriots.  Even 
Brittany  was  growing  uneasy;  a  force  had  been  collected 
to  attack  Roscius,  though  it  had  dispersed  after  the  relief 
of  Cicero.  Caesar  again  summoned  the  chiefs  to  come  to 
him,  and  between  threats  and  encouragements  succeeded 
in  preventing  a  general  rising.  But  the  tribes  on  the  upper 
Seine  broke  into  disturbance.  The  ^dui  and  the  Remi 
alone  remained  really  loyal;  and  it  was  evident  that  only  a 
leader  was  wanted  to  raise  the  whole  of  Gaul.  Caesar 
himself  admitted  that  nothing  could  be  more  natural.  The 
more  high-spirited  of  the  Gauls  were  miserable  to  see  that 
their  countrymen  had  so  lost  conceit  of  themselves  as  to 
submit  willingly  to  the  Roman  rule. 

Induciomarus  was  busy  all  the  winter,  soliciting  help 
from  the  Germans,  and  promising  money  and  lands.     The 


B.  c.  54-53]  INDUCIOMARUS   KILLED  257 

Germans  had  had  enough  of  fighting  the  Romans,  and, 
as  long  as  their  own  independence  was  not  threatened, 
were  disinclined  to  move;  but  Induciomarus,  nothing 
daunted,  gathered  volunteers  on  all  sides.  His  camp  be- 
came a  rallying  point  for  disaffection.  Envoys  came  pri- 
vately to  him  from  distant  tribes.  He,  too,  held  his  rival 
council,  and  a  fresh  attack  on  the  camp  of  Labienus  was 
to  be  the  first  step  in  a  general  war.  Labienus,  well  in- 
formed of  what  was  going  on,  watched  him  quietly  from 
his  intrenchments.  When  the  Gauls  approached,  he  af- 
fected fear,  as  Caesar  had  done,  and  he  secretly  formed  a 
body  of  cavalry,  of  whose  existence  they  had  no  suspicion. 
Induciomarus  became  careless.  Day  after  day  he  rode 
round  the  intrenchments,  insulting  the  Romans  as  cowards, 
and  his  men  flinging  their  javelins  over  the  walls.  La- 
bienus remained  passive,  till  one  evening,  when,  after  one 
of  these  displays,  the  loose  bands  of  the  Gauls  had  scat- 
tered, he  sent  his  horse  out  suddenly  with  orders  to  fight 
neither  with  small  nor  great,  save  with  Induciomarus  only, 
and  promising  a  reward  for  his  head.  Fortune  favoured 
him.  Induciomarus  was  overtaken  and  killed  in  a  ford  of 
the  Ourthe,  and  for  the  moment  the  agitation  was  cooled 
down.  But  the  impression  which  had  been  excited  by  the 
destruction  of  Sabinus  was  still  telling  through  the  coun- 
try. Caesar  expected  fresh  trouble  in  the  coming  summer, 
and  spent  the  rest  of  the  winter  and  spring  in  preparing 
for  a  new  struggle.  Future  peace  depended  on  convincing 
the  Gauls  of  the  inexhaustible  resources  of  Italy;  on  show- 
ing them  that  any  loss  which  might  be  inflicted  could  be 
immediately  repaired,  and  that  the  army  could  and  would 
be  maintained  in  whatever  strength  might  be  necessary 
to  coerce  them.  He  raised  two  fresh  legions  in  his  own 
province.  Pompey  had  formed  a  legion  in  the  north  of 
Italy,  within  Caesar's  boundaries,  for  service  in  Spain. 
Caesar  requested  Pompey  to  lend  him  this  legion  for  im- 
mediate purposes;  and  Pompey,  who  was  still  on  good 
terms  with  Caesar,  recognised  the  importance  of  the  oc- 
casion, and  consented  without  difficulty. 
17 


258  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  53 

Thus  amply  reinforced,  Caesar,  before  the  grass  had  be- 
gun to  grow,  took  the  field  against  the  tribes  which  were 
openly  disaffected.  The  first  business  was  to  punish  the 
Belgians,  who  had  attacked  Cicero.  He  fell  suddenly  on 
the  Nervii  with  four  legions,  seized  their  cattle,  wasted 
their  country,  and  carried  off  thousands  of  them  to  be 
sold  into  slavery.  Returning  to  Amiens,  he  again  called 
the  chiefs  about  him,  and,  the  Seine  tribes  refusing  to  put 
in  an  appearance,  he  transferred  the  council  to  Paris,  and, 
advancing  by  rapid  marches,  he  brought  the  Senones  and 
Carnutes  to  pray  for  pardon.^  He  then  turned  on  the 
Treveri  and  their  allies,  who,  under  Ambiorix,  had  de- 
stroyed Sabinus.  Leaving  Labienus  with  the  additional 
legions  to  check  the  Treveri,  he  went  himself  into 
Flanders,  where  Ambiorix  was  hiding  among  the  rivers 
and  marshes.  He  threw  bridges  over  the  dykes,  burnt  the 
villages,  and  carried  off  an  enormous  spoil,  of  cattle  and, 
alas!  of  men.  To  favour  and  enrich  the  tribes  that  sub- 
mitted after  a  first  defeat,  to  depopulate  the  determinately 
rebellious  by  seizing  and  selling  as  slaves  those  who  had 
forfeited  a  right  to  his  protection,  was  his  uniform  and, 
as  the  event  proved,  entirely  successful  policy.  The  per- 
suasions of  the  Treveri  had  failed  with  the  nearer  German 
tribes;' but  some  of  the  Suevi,  who  had  never  seen  the 
Romans,  were  tempted  to  adventure  over  and  try  their 
fortunes;  and  the  Treveri  were  waiting  for  them,  to  set  on 
Labienus,  in  Caesar's  absence.  Labienus  went  in  search 
of  the  Treveri,  tempted  them  into  an  engagement  by  a 
feigned  flight,  killed  many  of  them,  and  filled  his  camp  with 
prisoners.  Their  German  allies  retreated  again  across  the 
river,  and  the  patriot  chiefs,  who  had  gone  with  Inducio- 
marus,  concealed  themselves  in  the  forests  of  Westphalia. 
Caesar  thought  it  desirable  to  renew  the  admonition  which 
he  had  given  the  Germans  two  years  before,  and  again 
threw  a  bridge  over  the  Rhine  at  the  same  place  where  he 
had  made  the  first,  but  a  little  higher  up  the  stream.  Ex- 
perience made  the  construction  more  easy.  The  bridge 
was  begun  and  finished  in  a  few  days,  but  this  time  the 


B.  c.  53]  CICERO   AGAIN   IN   DANGER  259 

labour  was  thrown  away.  The  operation  itself  lost  its  im- 
pressiveness  by  repetition,  and  the  barrenness  of  practical 
results  was  more  evident  than  before.  The  Sueves,  who 
had  gone  home,  were  far  away  in  the  interior.  To  lead  the 
heavily  armed  legions  in  pursuit  of  wild  light-footed 
marauders,  who  had  not  a  town  which  could  be  burned, 
or  a  field  of  corn  which  could  be  cut  for  food,  was  to  waste 
their  strength  to  no  purpose,  and  to  prove  still  more 
plainly  that  in  their  own  forests  they  were  beyond  the  reach 
of  vengeance.  Caesar  drew  back  again,  after  a  brief  visit 
to  his  allies  the  Ubii,  cut  two  hundred  feet  of  the  bridge 
on  the  German  side,  and  leaving  the  rest  standing  with  a 
guard  to  defend  it,  he  went  in  search  of  Ambiorix,  who 
had  as  yet  eluded  him,  in  the  Ardennes.  Ambiorix  had 
added  treachery  to  insurrection,  and  as  long  as  he  was  free 
and  unpunished  the  massacred  legion  had  not  been  fully 
avenged.  Caesar  was  particularly  anxious  to  catch  him, 
and  once  had  found  the  nest  warm  which  Ambiorix  had 
left  but  a  few  moments  before. 

In  the  pursuit  he  came  again  to  Tongres,  to  the  fatal 
camp  which  Sabinus  had  deserted  and  in  which  the  last  of 
the  legionaries  had  killed  each  other,  rather  than  degrade 
the  Roman  name  by  allowing  themselves  to  be  captured. 
The  spot  was  fated,  and  narrowly  escaped  being  the  scene 
of  a  second  catastrophe  as  frightful  as  the  first.  The  in- 
trenchments  were  standing  as  they  were  left,  ready  to  be 
occupied.  Caesar,  finding  himself  incumbered  by  his  heavy 
baggage  in  the  pursuit  of  Ambiorix,  decided  to  leave  it 
there  with  Quintus  Cicero  and  the  Fourteenth  Legion. 
He  was  going  himself  to  scour  Brabant  and  East  Flanders 
as  far  as  the  Scheldt.  In  seven  days  he  promised  to  return, 
and  meanwhile  he  gave  Cicero  strict  directions  to  keep  the 
legion  within  the  lines,  and  not  to  allow  any  of  the  men  to 
stray.  It  happened  that  after  Caesar  recrossed  the  Rhine 
two  thousand  German  horse  had  followed  in  bravado,  and 
were  then  plundering  between  Tongres  and  the  river. 
Hearing  that  there  was  a  rich  booty  in  the  camp,  that 
Caesar  was  away,  and  only  a  small  party  had  been  left  to 


26o  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  53 

guard  it,  they  decided  to  try  to  take  the  place  by  a  sudden 
stroke.  Cicero  seeing  no  sign  of  an  enemy,  had  permitted 
his  men  to  disperse  in  foraging  parties.  The  Germans 
were  on  them  before  they  could  recover  their  intrench- 
ments,  and  they  had  to  form  at  a  distance  and  defend  them- 
selves as  they  could.  The  gates  of  the  camp  were  open, 
and  the  enemy  were  actually  inside  before  the  few  maniples 
who  were  left  there  were  able  to  collect  and  resist  them. 
Fortunately  Sextius  Baculus,  the  same  officer  who  had  so 
brilliantly  distinguished  himself  in  the  battle  with  the 
Nervii,  and  had  since  been  badly  wounded,  was  lying  sick 
in  his  tent,  where  he  had  been  for  five  days,  unable  to 
touch  food.  Hearing  the  disturbance,  Baculus  sprang  out, 
snatched  a  sword,  rallied  such  men  as  he  could  find,  and 
checked  the  attack  for  a  few  minutes.  Other  officers 
rushed  to  his  help,  and  the  legionaries  having  their  cen- 
turions with  them  recovered  their  steadiness.  Sextius 
Baculus  was  again  severely  hurt,  and  fainted,  but  he  was 
carried  off  in  safety.  Some  of  the  cohorts  who  were  out- 
side, and  had  been  for  a  time  cut  off,  made  their  way  into 
the  camp  to  join  the  defenders,  and  the  Germans  who  had 
come  without  any  fixed  purpose,  merely  for  plunder,  gave 
way  and  galloped  off  again.  They  left  the  Romans,  how- 
ever, still  in  the  utmost  consternation.  The  scene  and  the 
associations  of  it  suggested  the  most  gloomy  anticipations. 
They  thought  that  German  cavalry  could  never  be  so  far 
from  the  Rhine,  unless  their  countrymen  were  invading 
in  force  behind  them.  Caesar,  it  was  supposed,  must  have 
been  surprised  and  destroyed,  and  they  and  every  Roman 
in  Gaul  would  soon  share  the  same  fate.  Brave  as  they 
were,  the  Roman  soldiers  seem  to  have  been  curiously 
liable  to  panics  of  this  kind.  The  faith  with  which  they 
relied  upon  their  general  avenged  itself  through  the  com- 
pleteness with  which  they  were  accustomed  to  depend  upon 
him.  He  returned  on  the  day  which  he  had  fixed,  and  not 
unnaturally  was  displeased  at  the  disregard  of  his  orders. 
He  did  not,  or  does  not  in  his  ''  Commentaries,"  profess- 
edly blame  Cicero.     But  the  Ciceros  perhaps  resented  the 


B.  c.  53]  QUIET    RESTORED    IN    GAUL  26l 

loss  of  confidence  which  one  of  them  had  brought  upon 
himself.  Quintus  Cicero  cooled  in  his  zeal,  and  afterwards 
amused  the  leisure  of  his  winter  quarters  with  composing 
worthless  dramas. 

Ambiorix  had  again  escaped,  and  was  never  taken.  The 
punishment  fell  on  his  tribe.  The  Eburones  were  com- 
pletely rooted  out.  The  turn  of  the  Carnutes  and  Senones 
came  next.  The  people  themselves  were  spared;  but  their 
leader,  a  chief  named  Acco,  who  was  found  to  have  insti- 
gated the  revolt,  was  arrested  and  executed.  Again  the 
whole  of  Gaul  settled  into  seeming  quiet;  and  Caesar  went 
to  Italy,  where  the  political  frenzy  was  now  boiling  over. 

Notes 

'  Page  253.  Caesar  says  their  trenches  were  fifteen  miles  long.  This 
is,  perhaps,  a  mistake  of  the  transcriber.  A  Roman  camp  did  not  usu- 
ally cover  more  than  a  few  acres. 

'  Page  258.  People  about  Sens,  Melun,  and  Chartres. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  conference  at  Lucca  and  the  Senate's  indiffer- 
ence had  determined  Cicero  to  throw  in  his  lot 
with  the  trimmers.  He  had  remonstrated  with 
Pompey  on  the  imprudence  of  prolonging  Caesar's  com- 
mand. Pompey,  he  thought,  would  find  out  in  time  that 
he  had  made  Caesar  too  strong  for  him;  but  Pompey  had 
refused  to  listen,  and  Cicero  had  concluded  that  he  must 
consider  his  own  interests.  His  brother  Quintus  joined 
the  army  in  Gaul  to  take  part  in  the  invasion  of  Britain, 
and  to  share  the  dangers  and  honours  of  the  winter 
which  followed  it.  Cicero  himself  began  a  warm  corre- 
spondence with  Caesar,  and  through  Quintus  sent  con- 
tinued messages  to  him.  Literature  was  a  neutral  ground 
on  which  he  could  approach  his  political  enemy  without 
too  open  discredit,  and  he  courted  eagerly  the  approval 
of  a  critic  whose  literary  genius  he  esteemed  as  highly  as 
his  own.  Men  of  genuine  ability  are  rarely  vain  of  what 
they  can  do  really  well.  Cicero  admired  himself  as  a 
statesman  with  the  most  unbounded  enthusiasm.  He  was 
proud  of  his  verses,  which  were  hopelessly  commonplace. 
In  the  art  in  which  he  was  without  a  rival  he  was  modest 
and  diffident.  He  sent  his  various  writings  for  Caesar's 
judgment.  "  Like  the  traveller  who  has  overslept  him- 
self," he  said,  "  yet  by  extraordinary  exertion  reaches  his 
goal  sooner  than  if  he  had  been  earlier  on  the  road,  I  will 
follow  your  advice  and  court  this  man.  I  have  been  asleep 
too  long.  I  will  correct  my  slowness  with  my  speed;  and 
as  you  say  he  approves  my  verses,  I  shall  travel  not  with 
a  common  carriage,  but  with  a  four-in-hand  of  poetry."^ 
"  What  does  Caesar  say  of  my  poems?  "  he  wrote  again. 
''  He  tells  me  in  one  of  his  letters  that  he  has  never  read 
better  Greek.    At  one  place  he  writes  pa^vjjicotspa  (some- 

262 


B.  c.  55]  CICERO'S   APOLOGIES  263 

what  careless).  That  is  his  word.  Tell  me  the  truth,  was 
it  the  matter  which  did  not  please  him,  or  the  style?  " 
"  Do  not  be  afraid,"  he  added  with  candid  simplicity;  ''  I 
shall  not  think  a  hair  the  worse  of  myself."  ^ 

His  affairs  were  still  in  disorder.  Caesar  had  now  large 
sums  at  his  disposition.  Cicero  gave  the  highest  proof  of 
the  sincerity  of  his  conversion  by  accepting  money  from 
him.  "  You  say,"  he  observed  in  another  letter,  "  that 
Caesar  shows  every  day  more  marks  of  his  affection 
for  you.  It  gives  me  infinite  pleasure.  I  can  have  no 
second  thoughts  in  Caesar's  affairs.  I  act  on  conviction, 
and  am  doing  but  my  duty;  but  I  am  inflamed  with  love  for 
him."  ' 

With  Pompey  and  Crassus  Cicero  seemed  equally 
familiar.  When  their  consulship  was  over,  their  prov- 
inces were  assigned  as  had  been  determined.  Pompey 
had  Spain  with  six  legions.  He  remained  himself  at 
Rome,  sending  lieutenants  in  charge  of  them.  Crassus 
aspired  to  equal  the  glory  of  his  colleagues  in  the  open  field. 
He  had  gained  some  success  in  the  war  with  the  slaves 
which  persuaded  him  that  he  too  could  be  a  conqueror; 
and  knowing  as  much  of  foreign  campaigning  as  the  clerks 
in  his  factories,  he  intended  to  use  Syria  as  a  base  of  opera- 
tions against  the  Parthians,  and  to  extend  the  frontier  to 
the  Indus.  The  Senate  had  murmured,  but  Cicero  had 
passionately  defended  Crassus;*  and  as  if  to  show  publicly 
how  entirely  he  had  now  devoted  himself  to  the  cause  of 
the  ''  Dynasts,"  he  invited  Crassus  to  dine  with  him  the 
day  before  his  departure  for  the  East. 

The  position  was  not  wholly  pleasant  to  Cicero.  "  Self- 
respect  in  speech,  liberty  in  choosing  the  course  which  we 
will  pursue,  is  all  gone,"  he  wrote  to  Lentulus  Spinther — 
''  gone  not  more  from  me  than  from  us  all.  We  must 
assent,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  what  a  few  men  say,  or  we 
must  differ  from  them  to  no  purpose. — The  relations  of  the 
Senate,  of  the  courts  of  justice,  nay,  of  the  whole  com- 
monwealth, are  changed. — The  consular  dignity  of  a  firm 
and  courageous  statesman  can  no  longer  be  thought  of. 


264  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  55-54 

It  has  been  lost  by  the  folly  of  those  who  estranged  from 
the  Senate  the  compact  order  of  the  Equites  and  a  very 
distinguished  man  (Caesar)."  ^  And  again:  *'  We  must  go 
with  the  times.  Those  who  have  played  a  great  part  in 
public  life  have  never  been  able  to  adhere  to  the  same  views 
on  all  occasions.  The  art  of  navigation  lies  in  trimming 
to  the  storm.  When  you  can  reach  your  harbour  by  alter- 
ing your  course,  it  is  a  folly  to  persevere  in  struggling 
against  the  wind.  Were  I  entirely  free  I  should  still  act 
as  I  am  doing!  and  when  I  am  invited  to  my  present  atti- 
tude by  the  kindness  of  one  set  of  men,  and  am  driven  to  it 
by  the  injurious  conduct  of  the  other,  I  am  content  to  do 
what  I  conceive  will  conduce  at  once  to  my  own  advantage 
and  the  welfare  of  the  State. — Caesar's  influence  is  enor- 
mous. His  wealth  is  vast.  I  have  the  use  of  both,  as  if 
they  were  my  own.  Nor  could  I  have  crushed  the  con- 
spiracy of  a  set  of  villains  to  ruin  me,  unless,  in  addition  to 
the  defences  which  I  always  possess,  I  had  secured  the 
good-will  of  the  men  in  power."  ® 

Cicero's  conscience  could  not  have  been  easy  when  he 
was  driven  to  such  laborious  apologies.  He  spoke  often 
of  intending  to  withdraw  into  his  family,  and  devoting  his 
time  entirely  to  literature;  but  he  could  not  bring  himself 
to  leave  the  political  ferment;  and  he  was  possessed  besides 
with  a  passionate  desire  to  revenge  himself  on  those  who 
had  injured  him.  An  opportunity  seemed  to  present  it- 
self. The  persons  whom  he  hated  most,  after  Clodius, 
were  the  two  consuls  Gabinius  and  Piso,  who  had  per- 
mitted his  exile.  They  had  both  conducted  themselves 
abominably  in  the  provinces,  which  they  had  bought,  he 
said,  at  the  price  of  his  blood.  Piso  had  been  sent  to  Mace- 
donia, where  he  had  allowed  his  army  to  perish  by  disease 
and  neglect.  The  frontiers  had  been  overrun  with 
brigands,  and  the  outcries  of  his  subjects  had  been  audible 
even  in  Rome  against  his  tyranny  and  incapacity.  Gabin- 
ius, in  Syria,  had  been  more  ambitious,  and  had  exposed 
himself  to  an  indignation  more  violent  because  more  inter- 
ested.    At  a  hint  from  Pompey,  he  had  restored  Ptolemy 


B.  c.  54]  PROSECUTION    OF   GABINIUS  265 

to  Egypt  on  his  own  authority  and  without  waiting  for  the 
Senate's  sanction,  and  he  had  snatched  for  himself  the  prize 
for  which  the  chiefs  of  the  Senate  had  been  contending. 
He  had  broken  the  law  by  leading  his  legions  over  the 
frontier.  He  had  defeated  the  feeble  Alexandrians,  and  the 
gratified  Ptolemy  had  rewarded  him  with  the  prodigious 
sum  of  ten  thousand  talents — a  million  and  a  half  of  Eng- 
lish money.  While  he  thus  enriched  himself  he  had  irri- 
tated the  knights,  who  might  otherwise  have  supported 
him,  by  quarrelling  with  the  Syrian  revenue  farmers,  and, 
according  to  popular  scandal,  he  had  plundered  the  prov- 
ince worse  than  it  had  been  plundered  even  by  the  pirates. 
When  so  fair  a  chance  was  thrown  in  his  way,  Cicero 
would  have  been  more  than  human  if  he  had  not  availed 
himself  of  it.  He  moved  in  the  Senate  for  the  recall  of  the 
two  offenders,  and  in  the  finest  of  his  speeches  he  laid 
bare  their  reputed  iniquities.  His  position  was  a  delicate 
one — because  the  senatorial  party,  could  they  have  had 
their  way,  would  have  recalled  Caesar  also.  Gabinius  was 
Pompey's  favourite,  and  Piso  was  Caesar's  father-in-law. 
Cicero  had  no  intention  of  quarrelHng  with  Caesar;  be- 
tween his  invectives,  therefore,  he  was  careful  to  inter- 
weave the  most  elaborate  compliments  to  the  conqueror 
of  Gaul.  He  dwelt  with  extraordinary  clearness  on  the 
value  of  Caesar's  achievements.  The  conquest  of  Gaul,  he 
said,  was  not  the  annexation  of  a  province.  It  was  the  dis- 
persion of  a  cloud  which  had  threatened  Italy  from  the 
days  of  Brennus.  To  recall  Caesar  would  be  madness. 
He  wished  to  remain  only  to  complete  his  work;  the  more 
honour  to  him  that  he  was  willing  to  let  the  laurels  fade 
which  were  waiting  for  him  at  Rome,  before  he  returned  to 
wear  them.  There  were  persons  who  would  bring  him 
back,  because  they  did  not  love  him.  They  would  bring 
him  back  only  to  enjoy  a  triumph.  Gaul  had  been  the 
single  danger  to  the  Empire.  Nature  had  fortified  Italy 
by  the  Alps.  The  mountain  barrier  alone  had  allowed 
Rome  to  grow  to  its  present  greatness,  but  the  Alps  might 
now  sink  into  the  earth.     Italy  had  no  more  fear/ 


Z^  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  54 

The  orator  perhaps  hoped  that  so  splendid  a  vindication 
of  Caesar  in  the  midst  of  his  worst  enemies  might  have 
purchased  pardon  for  his  onslaught  on  the  baser  mem- 
bers of  the  "  Dynastic  "  faction.  He  found  himself  mis- 
taken. His  eagerness  to  revenge  his  personal  wrongs 
compelled  him  to  drink  the  bitterest  cup  of  humiliation 
which  had  yet  been  offered  to  him.  He  gained  his  im- 
mediate purpose.  The  two  governors  were  recalled  in 
disgrace,  and  Gabinius  was  impeached  under  the  new 
Julian  law  for  having  restored  Ptolemy  without  orders,  and 
for  the  corrupt  administration  of  his  province.  Cicero 
would  naturally  have  conducted  the  prosecution;  but  pres- 
sure of  some  kind  was  laid  on,  which  compelled  him  to 
stand  aside.  The  result  of  the  trial  on  the  first  of  the  two 
indictments  was  another  of  those  mockeries  of  justice 
which  made  the  Roman  law  courts  the  jest  of  mankind. 
Pompey  threw  his  shield  over  his  instrument.  He  used 
his  influence  freely.  The  Egyptian  spoils  furnished  a 
fund  to  corrupt  the  judges.  The  speech  for  the  prose- 
cution was  so  weak  as  to  invite  a  failure,  and  Gabinius  was 
acquitted  by  a  majority  of  purchased  votes.  "  You  ask  me 
how  I  endure  such  things,"  Cicero  bitterly  wrote,  in  telling 
the  story  to  Atticus;  ''  well  enough,  by  Hercules,  and  I  am 
entirely  pleased  with  myself.  We  have  lost,  my  friend,  not 
only  the  juice  and  blood,  but  even  the  colour  and  shape,  of 
a  Commonwealth.  No  decent  constitution  exists,  in  which 
I  can  take  a  part.  How  can  you  put  up  with  such  a  state 
of  things?  you  will  say.  Excellently  well.  I  recollect  how 
public  affairs  went  a  while  ago,  when  I  was  myself  in  office, 
and  how  grateful  people  were  to  me.  I  am  not  distressed 
now,  that  the  power  is  with  a  single  man.  Those  are 
miserable  who  could  not  bear  to  see  me  successful.  I  find 
much  to  console  me."  ®  "  Gabinius  is  acquitted,"  he  wrote 
to  his  brother. — "  The  verdict  is  so  infamous  that  it  is 
thought  he  will  be  convicted  on  the  other  charge;  but,  as 
you  perceive,  the  constitution,  the  Senate,  the  courts,  are 
all  nought.  There  is  no  honour  in  any  one  of  us. — Some 
persons,  Sallust  among  them,  say  that  I  ought  to  have 


B.  c.  54]  CICERO   DEFENDS  GABINIUS  267 

prosecuted  him.  I  to  risk  my  credit  with  such  a  jury!  what 
if  I  had  acted,  and  he  had  escaped  then !  but  other  motives 
influenced  me.  Pompey  would  have  made  a  personal  quar- 
rel of  it  with  me.  He  would  have  come  into  the  city.® — He 
would  have  taken  up  with  Clodius  again.  I  know  that  I 
was  wise,  and  I  hope  that  you  agree  with  me.  I  owe  Pom- 
pey nothing, and  he  owes  much  to  me; but  in  public  matters 
(not  to  put  it  more  strongly)  he  has  not  allowed  me  to 
oppose  him;  and  when  I  was  flourishing  and  he  was  less 
powerful  than  he  is  now,  he  let  me  see  what  he  could  do. 
Now  when  I  am  not  even  ambitious  of  power,  and  the  con- 
stitution is  broken  down,  and  Pompey  is  omnipotent,  why 
should  I  contend  with  him?  Then,  says  Sallust,  I  ought 
to  have  pleased  Pompey  by  defending  Gabinius,  as  he  was 
anxious  that  I  should.  A  nice  friend  Sallust,  who  would 
have  me  push  myself  into  dangerous  quarrels,  or  cover 
myself  with  eternal  infamy!  "  ^° 

Unhappy  Cicero,  wishing  to  act  honourably,  but  with- 
out manliness  to  face  the  consequences!  He  knew  that 
it  would  be  infamous  for  him  to  defend  Gabinius,  yet  at 
the  second  trial  Cicero,  who  had  led  the  attack  on  him  in 
the  Senate,  and  had  heaped  invectives  on  him,  the  most 
bitter  which  he  ever  uttered  against  man,  nevertheless 
actually  did  defend  Gabinius.  Perhaps  he  consoled  him- 
self with  the  certainty  that  his  eloquence  would  be  in  vain, 
and  that  his  extraordinary  client  this  time  could  not  escape 
conviction.  Any  way,  he  appeared  at  the  bar  as  Gabinius's 
counsel.  The  Syrian  revenue  farmers  were  present,  open- 
mouthed  with  their  accusations.  Gabinius  was  con- 
demned, stripped  of  his  spoils,  and  sent  into  banishment. 
Cicero  was  left  with  his  shame.  Nor  was  this  the  worst. 
There  was  still  some  dregs  in  the  cup,  which  he  was  forced 
to  drain.  Publius  Vatinius  was  a  prominent  leader  of  the 
military  democratic  party,  and  had  often  come  in  collision 
with  Cicero.  He  had  been  tribune  when  Caesar  was  consul, 
and  had  stood  by  him  against  the  Senate  and  Bibulus. 
He  had  served  in  Gaul  in  Caesar's  first  campaigns,  and  had 
returned  to  Rome,  at  Caesar's  instance,  to  enter  for  higher 


268  ^  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  54 

office.  He  had  carried  the  prsetorship  against  Cato;  and 
Cicero  in  one  of  his  speeches  had  painted  him  as  another 
Clodius  or  CatiUne.  When  the  praetorship  was  expired, 
he  was  prosecuted  for  corruption;  and  Cicero  was  once 
more  compelled  to  appear  on  the  other  side,  and  defend 
him,  as  he  had  done  Gabinius.  Caesar  and  Pompey,  wish- 
ing, perhaps,  to  break  completely  into  harness  the  brilliant 
but  still  half  unmanageable  orator,  had  so  ordered,  and 
Cicero  had  complied.  He  was  ashamed,  but  had  still  his 
points  of  satisfaction.  It  was  a  matter  of  course  that,  as 
an  advocate,  he  must  praise  the  man  whom,  a  year  before, 
he  had  spattered  with  ignominy;  but  he  had  the  pleasure  of 
feeling  that  he  was  revenging  himself  on  his  conservative 
allies,  who  led  the  prosecution.  *'  Why  I  praised  Vatin- 
ius,"  he  wrote  to  Lentulus,  "  I  must  beg  you  not  to  ask 
either  in  the  case  of  this  or  of  any  other  criminal.  I  put  it 
to  the  judges,  that  since  certain  noble  lords,  my  good 
friends,  were  too  fond  of  my  adversary  (Clodius),  and  the 
Senate  would  go  apart  with  him  under  my  own  eyes,  and 
would  treat  him  with  warmest  affection,  they  must 
allow  me  to  have  my  Publius  (Vatinius),  since  they 
had  theirs  (Clodius),  and  give  them  a  gentle  stab  in  return 
for  their  cuts  at  me."  ^^  Vatinius  was  acquitted.  Cicero 
was  very  miserable.  "  Gods  and  men  approved,"  he  said; 
but  his  own  conscience  condemned  him,  and  at  this  time 
his  one  consolation,  real  or  pretended,  was  the  friendship 
of  Caesar.  "  Caesar's  affectionate  letters,"  he  told  his 
brother,  "  are  my  only  pleasure;  I  attach  little  consequence 
to  his  promises;  I  do  not  thirst  for  honours,  or  regret  my 
past  glory.  I  value  more  the  continuance  of  his  good- 
will than  the  prospect  of  anything  which  he  may  do  for  me. 
I  am  withdrawing  from  public  affairs,  and  giving  myself 
to  literature.  But  I  am  broken-hearted,  my  dear  brother; 
— I  am  broken-hearted  that  the  constitution  is  gone,  that 
the  courts  of  law  are  naught:  and  that  now  at  my  time 
of  life,  when  I  ought  to  be  leading  with  authority  in  the 
Senate,  I  must  be  either  busy  in  the  Forum  pleading,  or 


B.  c.  54-53]  CICERO'S  DISSATISFACTION  269 

occupying  myself  with  my  books  at  home.  The  ambition 
of  my  boyhood — 

"  '  Aye  to  be  first,  and  chief  among  my  peers—' 

is  all  departed.  Of  my  enemies,  I  have  left  some  un- 
assailed,  and  some  I  have  defended.  Not  only  I  may  not 
think  as  I  like,  but  I  may  not  hate  as  I  Hke,^^  and  Caesar  is 
the  only  person  who  loves  me  as  I  should  wish  to  be  loved, 
or,  as  some  think,  who  desires  to  love  me."  ^^ 

The  position  was  the  more  piteous,  because  Cicero  could 
not  tell  how  events  would  fall  out  after  all.  Crassus  was 
in  the  East,  with  uncertain  prospects  there.  Caesar  was 
in  the  midst  of  a  dangerous  war,  and  might  be  killed  or 
might  die.  Pompey  was  but  a  weak  vessel;  a  distinguished 
soldier,  perhaps,  but  without  the  intellect  or  the  resolution 
to  control  a  proud,  resentful,  and  supremely  unscrupulous 
aristocracy.  In  spite  of  Caesar's  victories,  his  most  enven- 
omed enemy,  Domitius  Ahenobarbus,  had  succeeded  after 
all  in  carrying  one  of  the  consulships  for  the  year  54.  The 
popular  party  had  secured  the  other,  indeed;  but  they  had 
returned  Appius  Claudius,  Clodius's  brother,  and  this  was 
but  a  poor  consolation.  In  the  year  that  was  to  follow,  the 
conservatives  had  bribed  to  an  extent  which  astonished  the 
most  cynical  observers.  Each  season  the  elections  were 
growing  more  corrupt;  but  the  proceedings  on  both  sides 
in  the  fall  of  54  were  the  most  audacious  that  had  ever  been 
known,  the  two  reigning  consuls  taking  part,  and  encour- 
aging and  assisting  in  scandalous  bargains.  "  All  the  can- 
diates  have  bribed,"  wrote  Cicero;  "but  they  will  be  all 
acquitted,  and  no  one  will  ever  be  found  guilty  again.  The 
two  consuls  are  branded  with  infamy."  Memmius,  the 
popular  competitor,  at  Pompey's  instance,  exposed  in  the 
Senate  an  arrangement  which  the  consuls  had  entered  into 
to  secure  the  returns.  The  names  and  signatures  were 
produced.  The  scandal  was  monstrous,  and  could  not  be 
denied.  The  better  kind  of  men  began  to  speak  of  a  Dic- 
tatorship as  the  only  remedy;  and  although  the  two  con- 
servative candidates  were  declared  elected  for  53,  and  were 


270  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  53 

allowed  to  enter  on  their  offices,  there  was  a  general  feeling 
that  a  crisis  had  arrived,  and  that  a  great  catastrophe  could 
not  be  very  far  off.  The  form  which  it  might  assume  was 
the  problem  of  the  hour. 

Cicero,  speaking  two  years  before  on  the  broad  condi- 
tions of  his  time,  had  used  these  remarkable  words:  ''  No 
issue  can  be  anticipated  from  discords  among  the  leading 
men,  except  either  universal  ruin,  or  the  rule  of  a  con- 
queror, or  a  monarchy.  There  exists  at  present  an  uncon- 
cealed hatred  implanted  and  fastened  into  the  minds  of  our 
leading  politicians.  They  are  at  issue  among  themselves. 
Opportunities  are  caught  for  mutual  injury.  Those  who 
are  in  the  second  rank  watch  for  the  chances  of  the  time. 
Those  who  might  do  better  are  afraid  of  the  words  and 
designs  of  their  enemies."  ^* 

The  discord  had  been  suspended,  and  the  intrigues  tem- 
porarily checked,  by  the  combination  of  Caesar  and  Pom- 
pey  with  Crassus,  the  chief  of  the  moneyed  commoners. 
Two  men  of  equal  military  reputation,  and  one  of  them 
from  his  greater  age  and  older  services  expecting  and 
claiming  precedency,  do  not  easily  work  together.  For 
Pompey  to  witness  the  rising  glory  of  Caesar,  and  to  feel 
in  his  own  person  the  superior  ascendency  of  Caesar's  char-^ 
acter,  without  an  emotion  of  jealousy,  would  have  de- 
manded a  degree  of  virtue  which  few  men  have  ever  pos- 
sessed. They  had  been  united  so  far  by  identity  of  convic- 
tion, by  a  military  detestation  of  anarchy,  by  a  common 
interest  in  wringing  justice  from  the  Senate  for  the  army 
and  people,  by  a  pride  in  the  greatness  of  their  country, 
which  they  were  determined  to  uphold.  These  motives, 
however,  might  not  long  have  borne  the  strain  but  for 
other  ties,  which  had  cemented  their  union.  Pompey  had 
married  Caesar's  daughter,  to  whom  he  was  passionately 
attached;  and  the  personal  competition  between  them  was 
neutralized  by  the  third  element  of  the  capitalist  party  rep- 
resented by  Crassus,  which  if  they  quarrelled  would  secure 
the  supremacy  of  the  faction  to  which  Crassus  attached 
himself.     There  was  no  jealousy  on  Caesar's  part.     There 


B.C.  53]  CATASTROPHE   IN   THE   EAST  27 1 

was  no  occasion  for  it.  Caesar's  fame  was  rising.  Pom- 
pey  had  added  nothing  to  his  past  distinctions,  and  the 
glory  pales  which  does  not  grow  in  lustre.  No  man  who 
had  once  been  the  single  object  of  admiration,  who  had 
tasted  the  delight  of  being  the  first  in  the  eyes  of  his  coun- 
trymen, could  find  himself  compelled  to  share  their  ap- 
plause with  a  younger  rival  without  experiencing  a  pang. 
So  far  Pompey  had  borne  the  trial  well.  He  was,  on  the 
whole,  notwithstanding  the  Egyptian  scandal,  honourable 
and  constitutionally  disinterested.  He  was  immeasurably 
superior  to  the  fanatic  Cato,  to  the  shifty  Cicero,  or  the 
proud  and  worthless  leaders  of  the  senatorial  oligarchy. 
Had  the  circumstances  remained  unchanged,  the  severity 
of  the  situation  might  have  been  overcome.  But  two  mis- 
fortunes coming  near  upon  one  another  broke  the  ties  of 
family  connection,  and  by  destroying  the  balance  of  parties 
laid  Pompey  open  to  the  temptation  of  patrician  intrigue. 
In  the  year  54  Caesar's  great  mother  Aurelia,  and  his 
daughter  Julia,  Pompey's  wife,  both  died.  A  child  which 
Julia  had  borne  to  Pompey  died  also,  and  the  powerful  if 
silent  influence  of  two  remarkable  women,  and  the  joint 
interest  in  an  infant,  who  would  have  been  Caesar's  heir 
as  well  as  Pompey's,  were  swept  away  together. 

The  political  link  was  broken  immediately  after  by  a 
public  disaster  unequalled  since  the  last  consular  army  was 
overthrown  by  the  Gauls  on  the  Rhone;  and  the  capitalists, 
left  without  a  leader,  drifted  away  to  their  natural  allies  in 
the  Senate.  Crassus  had  taken  the  field  in  the  East,  with 
a  wild  ambition  of  becoming  in  his  turn  a  great  conqueror. 
At  first  all  had  gone  well  with  him.  He  had  raised  a  vast 
treasure.  He  had  plundered  the  wealthy  temples  in  Phoe- 
nicia and  Palestine  to  fill  his  military  chest.  He  had  able 
officers  with  him;  not  the  least  among  them  his  son  Publius 
Crassus,  who  had  served  with  such  distinction  under  Caesar." 
He  crossed  the  Euphrates  at  the  head  of  a  magnificent 
army,  expecting  to  carry  all  before  him  with  the  ease  of  an 
Alexander.  Relying  on  his  own  idle  judgment,  he  was 
tempted  in  the  midst  of  a  burning  summer  into  the  water- 


2/2  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  53 

less  plains  of  Mesopotamia;  and  on  the  15th  of  June  the 
great  Roman  millionaire  met  his  miserable  end,  the  whole 
force,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  scattered  cohorts,  being 
totally  annihilated. 

The  catastrophe  in  itself  was  terrible.  The  Parthians 
had  not  provoked  the  war.  The  East  was  left  defenceless; 
and  the  natural  expectation  was  that,  in  their  just  revenge, 
they  might  carry  fire  and  sword  through  Asia  Minor  and 
Syria.  It  is  not  the  least  remarkable  sign  of  the  times  that 
the  danger  failed  to  touch  the  patriotism  of  the  wretched 
factions  in  Rome.  The  one  thought  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Senate  was  to  turn  the  opportunity  to  advantage,  wrest 
the  constitution  free  from  military  dictation,  shake  off  the 
detested  laws  of  Caesar,  and  revenge  themselves  on  the 
author  of  them.  The  hope  was  in  Pompey.  If  Pompey 
could  be  won  over  from  Caesar,  the  army  would  be  divided. 
Pompey,  they  well  knew,  unless  he  had  a  stronger  head 
than  his  own  to  guide  him,  could  be  used  till  the  victory 
was  won,  and  then  be  thrust  aside.  It  was  but  too  easy  to 
persuade  him  that  he  was  the  greatest  man  in  the  Empire; 
and  that  as  the  chief  of  a  constitutional  government,  and 
with  the  Senate  at  his  side,  he  would  inscribe  his  name  in 
the  annals  of  his  country  as  the  restorer  of  Roman  liberty. 

The  intrigue  could  not  be  matured  immediately.  The 
aristocracy  had  first  to  overcome  their  own  animosities 
against  Pompey,  and  Pompey  himself  was  generous,  and 
did  not  yield  to  the  first  efforts  of  seduction.  The  smaller 
passions  were  still  at  work  among  the  baser  senatorial 
chiefs,  and  the  appetite  for  provinces  and  pillage.  The 
Senate,  even  while  Crassus  was  alive,  had  carried  the  con- 
sulships for  53  by  the  most  infamous  corruption.  They 
meant  now  to  attack  Caesar  in  earnest,  and  their  energies 
were  addressed  to  controlling  the  elections  for  the  next 
year.  Milo  was  one  of  the  candidates;  and  Cicero,  who 
was  watching  the  political  current,  reverted  to  his  old 
friendship  for  him,  and  became  active  in  the  canvass.  Milo 
was  not  a  creditable  ally.  He  already  owed  half  a  million 
of  money,  and  Cicero,  who  was  anxious  for  his  reputation, 


B.  c.  53]  MILO  273 

endeavoured  to  keep  him  within  the  bounds  of  decency. 
But  Milo's  mind  was  fastened  on  the  province  which  was 
to  redeem  his  fortunes,  and  he  flung  into  bribery  what  was 
left  of  his  wrecked  credit  with  the  desperation  of  a  gambler. 
He  had  not  been  praetor,  and  thus  was  not  legally  eligible 
for  the  consulate.  This,  however,  was  forgiven.  He  had 
been  sedile  in  54,  and  as  aedile  he  had  already  been  magnifi- 
cent in  prodigality.  But  to  secure  the  larger  prize,  he 
gave  as  a  private  citizen  the  most  gorgeous  entertainment 
which  even  in  that  monstrous  age  the  city  had  yet  won- 
dered at.  "  Doubly,  trebly  foolish  of  him,"  thought  Cic- 
ero, "for  he  was  not  called  on  to  go  to  such  expense, and  he 
has  not  the  means."  "  Milo  makes  me  very  anxious,"  he 
wrote  to  his  brother.  "  I  hope  all  will  be  made  right  by 
his  consulship.  I  shall  exert  myself  for  him  as  much  as  I 
did  for  myself  ;^^  but  he  is  quite  mad,"  Cicero  added;  ''  he 
has  spent  30,0001.  on  his  games."  Mad,  but  still,  in  Cic- 
ero's opinion,  well  fitted  for  the  consulship,  and  likely  to 
get  it.  All  the  "  good,"  in  common  with  himself,  were 
most  anxious  for  Milo's  success.  The  people  would  vote 
for  him  as  a  reward  for  his  spectacles,  and  the  young  and 
influential  for  his  efforts  to  secure  their  favour.^* 

The  reappearance  of  the  ''  Boni,"  the  "  Good,"  in 
Cicero's  letters  marks  the  turn  of  the  tide  again  in  his  own 
mind.  The  ''  good,"  or  the  senatorial  party,  were  once 
more  the  objects  of  his  admiration.  The  affection  for 
Caesar  was  passing  off. 

A  more  objectionable  candidate  than  Milo  could  hardly 
have  been  found.  He  was  no  better  than  a  patrician  glad- 
iator, and  the  choice  of  such  a  man  was  a  sufficient  indica- 
tion of  the  Senate's  intentions.  The  popular  party  led  by 
the  tribunes  made  a  sturdy  resistance.  There  were  storms 
in  the  Curia,  tribunes  imprisoning  senators,  and  the  senate 
tribunes.  Army  officers  suggested  the  election  of  military 
tribunes  (lieutenant-generals),  instead  of  consuls;  and 
when  they  failed,  they  invited  Pompey  to  declare  himself 
Dictator.  The  Senate  put  on  mourning,  as  a  sign  of  ap- 
proaching calamity.  Pompey  calmed  their  fears  by  de- 
18 


274  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  53-52 

dining  so  ambitious  a  position.  But  as  it  was  obvious 
that  Milo's  chief  object  was  a  province  which  he  might 
misgovern,  Pompey  forced  the  Senate  to  pass  a  resolution, 
that  consuls  and  praetors  must  wait  five  years  from  their 
term  of  office  before  a  province  was  to  be  allotted  to  them. 
The  temptation  to  corruption  might  thus  in  some  degree 
be  diminished.  But  senatorial  resolutions  did  not  pass  for 
much,  and  what  a  vote  had  enacted  a  vote  could  repeal. 
The  agitation  continued.  The  tribunes,  when  the  time 
came,  forbade  the  elections.  The  year  expired.  The  old 
magistrates  went  out  of  office,  and  Rome  was  left  again 
without  legitimate  functionaries  to  carry  on  the  govern- 
ment.    All  the  offices  fell  vacant  together. 

Now  once  more  Clodius  was  reappearing  on  the  scene. 
He  had  been  silent  for  two  years,  content  or  constrained 
to  leave  the  control  of  the  democracy  to  the  three  chiefs. 
One  of  them  was  now  gone.  The  more  advanced  section 
of  the  party  was  beginning  to  distrust  Pompey.  Clodius, 
their  favourite  representative,  had  been  put  forward  for  the 
prsetorship,  while  Milo  was  aspiring  to  be  made  consul, 
and  Clodius  had  prepared  a  fresh  batch  of  laws  to  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  sovereign  people;  one  of  which  (if  Cicero  did 
not  misrepresent  it  to  inflame  the  aristocracy)  was  a  meas- 
ure of  some  kind  for  the  enfranchisement  of  the  slaves,  or 
perhaps  of  the  sons  of  slaves.^^  He  was  as  popular  as  ever. 
He  claimed  to  be  acting  for  Caesar,  and  was  held  certain 
of  success ;  if  he  was  actually  praetor,  such  was  his  extraor- 
dinary influence,  and  such  was  the  condition  of  things  in 
the  city,  that  if  Milo  was  out  of  the  way  he  could  secure 
consuls  of  his  own  way  of  thinking,  and  thus  have  the 
whole  constitutional  power  in  his  hands. ^^ 

Thus  both  sides  had  reasons  for  fearing  and  postponing 
the  elections.  Authority,  which  had  been  weak  before, 
was  now  extinct.  Rome  was  in  a  state  of  formal  anarchy, 
and  the  factions  of  Milo  and  Clodius  fought  daily,  as  be- 
fore, in  the  streets,  with  no  one  to  interfere  with  them. 

Violent  humours  come  naturally  to  a  violent  end.  Milo 
had  long  before  threatened  to  kill  Clodius.     Cicero  had 


B.  c.  52]  MURDER  OF  CLODIUS  275 

openly  boasted  of  his  friend's  intention  to  do  it,  and  had 
spoken  of  Clodius  in  the  Senate  itself  as  Milo's  predestined 
victim.  On  the  evening  of  the  13th  of  January,  while  the 
uncertainty  about  the  elections  was  at  its  height,  Clodius 
was  returning  from  his  country  house,  which  was  a  few 
miles  from  Rome  on  the  "  Appian  Way."  Milo  happened 
to  be  travelling  accidentally  down  the  same  road  on  his  way 
to  Lanuvium  (Civita  Indovina),  and  the  two  rivals  and 
their  escorts  met.  Milo's  party  was  the  largest.  The 
leaders  passed  one  another,  evidently  not  intending  a  colli- 
sion, but  their  followers,  who  were  continually  at  sword's 
point,  came  naturally  to  blows.  Clodius  rode  back  to  see 
what  was  going  on;  he  was  attacked  and  wounded,  and 
took  refuge  in  a  house  on  the  roadside.  The  temptation 
to  make  an  end  of  his  enemy  was  too  strong  for  Milo  to  re- 
sist. To  have  hurt  Clodius  would,  he  thought,  be  as  dan- 
gerous as  to  have  made  an  end  of  him.  His  blood  was  up. 
The  ''  predestined  victim,"  who  had  thwarted  him  for  so 
many  years,  was  within  his  reach.  The  house  was  forced 
open.  Clodius  was  dragged  out  bleeding,  and  was  de- 
spatched, and  the  body  was  left  lying  where  he  fell,  where 
a  senator,  named  Sextus  Tedius,  who  was  passing  an  hour 
or  two  after,  found  it,  and  carried  it  the  same  night  to 
Rome.  The  little  which  is  known  of  Clodius  comes  only 
through  Cicero's  denunciations,  which  formed  or  coloured 
later  Roman  traditions;  and  it  is  thus  difficult  to  compre- 
hend the  affection  which  the  people  felt  for  him;  but  of  the 
fact  there  can  be  no  doubt  at  all;  he  was  the  representa- 
tive of  their  political  opinions,  the  embodiment,  next  to 
Caesar,  of  their  practical  hopes;  and  his  murder  was  ac- 
cepted as  a  declaration  of  an  aristocratic  war  upon  them, 
and  the  first  blow  in  another  massacre.  On  the  following 
day,  in  the  winter  morning,  the  tribunes  brought  the  body 
into  the  Forum.  A  vast  crowd  had  collected  to  see  it, 
and  it  was  easy  to  lash  them  into  fury.  They  dashed  in 
the  doors  of  the  adjoining  Senate-house,  they  carried  in  the 
bier,  made  a  pile  of  chairs  and  benches  and  tables,  and 
burnt  all  that  remained  of  Clodius  in  the  ashes  of  the  Sen- 


276  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  52 

ate-house  itself.  The  adjoining  temples  were  consumed 
in  the  conflagration.  The  Senate  collected  elsewhere. 
They  put  on  a  bold  front,  they  talked  of  naming  an  In- 
terrex — which  they  ought  to  have  done  before — and  of 
holding  the  elections  instantly,  now  that  Clodius  was  gone. 
Milo  still  hoped,  and  the  aristocracy  still  hoped  for  Milo. 
But  the  storm  was  too  furious.  Pompey  came  in  with  a 
body  of  troops,  restored  order,  and  took  command  of  the 
city.  The  preparations  for  the  election  were  quashed. 
Pompey  still  declined  the  Dictatorship,  but  he  was  named, 
or  he  named  himself,  sole  consul,  and  at  once  appointed  a 
commission  to  inquire  into  the  circumstances  of  Milo's  can- 
vass, and  the  corruption  which  had  gone  along  with  it. 
Milo  himself  was  arrested  and  put  on  his  trial  for  the  mur- 
der. Judges  were  chosen  who  could  be  trusted,  and  to 
prevent  intimidation  the  court  was  occupied  by  soldiers. 
Cicero  undertook  his  friend's  defence,  but  was  unnerved 
by  the  stern,  grim  faces  with  which  he  was  surrounded. 
The  eloquent  tongue  forgot  its  offtce.  He  stammered, 
blundered,  and  sat  down.^^  The  consul  expectant  was 
found  guilty  and  banished,  to  return  a  few  years  after  like 
a  hungry  wolf  in  the  civil  war,  and  to  perish  as  he  de- 
served. Pompey's  justice  was  even-handed.  He  pun- 
ished Milo,  but  the  Senate-house  and  temples  were  not  to 
be  destroyed  without  retribution  equally  severe.  The  trib- 
unes who  had  led  on  the  mob  were  deposed,  and  suffered 
various  penalties.  Pompey  acted  with  a  soldier's  abhor- 
rence of  disorder,  and  so  far,  he  did  what  Caesar  approved 
and  would  himself  have  done  in  Pompey's  place. 

But  there  followed  symptoms  which  showed  that  there 
were  secret  influences  at  work  with  Pompey,  and  that  he 
was  not  the  man  which  he  had  been.  He  had  taken  the 
consulate  alone;  but  a  single  consul  was  an  anomaly;  as 
soon  as  order  was  restored  it  was  understood  that  he  meant 
to  choose  a  colleague;  and  Senate  and  people  were  watch- 
ing to  see  whom  he  would  select  as  an  indication  of  his 
future  attitude.  Half  the  world  expected  that  he  would 
name  Caesar,  but  half  the  world  was  disappointed.     He 


B.  c.  52]  PROMISE    OF  A  SECOND  CONSULSHIP  277 

took  Metellus  Scipio,  who  had  been  the  Senate's  second 
candidate  by  the  side  of  Milo,  and  had  been  as  deeply  con- 
cerned in  bribery  as  Milo  himself;  shortly  after,  and  with 
still  more  significance,  he  replaced  Julia  by  Metellus 
Scipio's  daughter,  the  widow  of  young  Publius  Crassus, 
who  had  fallen  with  his  father. 

Pompey,  however,  did  not  break  with  Caesar,  and  did 
not  appear  to  intend  to  break  with  him.  Communications 
passed  between  them  on  the  matter  of  the  consulship.  The 
tribunes  had  pressed  him  as  Pompey's  colleague.  Caesar 
himself,  being  then  in  the  North  of  Italy,  had  desired,  on 
being  consulted,  that  the  demand  might  not  be  insisted  on. 
He  had  work  still  before  him  in  Gaul  which  he  could  not 
leave  unfinished;  but  he  made  a  request  himself  that  must 
be  noticed,  since  the  civil  war  formally  grew  out  of  it,  and 
Pompey  gave  a  definite  pledge,  which  was  afterwards 
broken. 

One  of  the  engagements  at  Lucca  had  been  that  when 
Caesar's  command  should  have  expired  he  was  to  be  again 
consul.  His  term  had  still  three  years  to  run;  but  many 
things  might  happen  in  three  years.  A  party  in  the  Sen- 
ate were  bent  on  his  recall.  They  might  succeed  in  per- 
suading the  people  to  consent  to  it.  And  Caesar  felt,  as 
Pompey  had  felt  before  him,  that,  in  the  unscrupulous  hu- 
mour of  his  enemies  at  Rome,  he  might  be  impeached  or 
killed  on  his  return,  as  Clodius  had  been,  if  he  came  back 
a  private  citizen  unprotected  by  ofBce  to  sue  for  his  elec- 
tion. Therefore  he  had  stipulated  at  Lucca  that  his  name 
might  be  taken  and  that  votes  might  be  given  for  him  while 
he  was  still  with  his  army.  On  Pompey's  taking  the  power 
into  his  hands,  Caesar,  while  abandoning  any  present  claim 
to  share  it,  reminded  him  of  this  understanding,  and  re- 
quired at  the  same  time  that  it  should  be  renewed  in  some 
authoritative  form.  The  Senate,  glad  to  escape  on  any 
terms  from  the  present  conjunction  of  the  men  whom  they 
hoped  to  divide,  appeared  to  consent.  Cicero  himself 
made  a  journey  to  Ravenna  to  see  Caesar  about  it  and  make 
a  positive  arrangement  with  him.     Pompey  submitted  the 


278  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  52 

condition  to  the  assembly  of  the  people,  by  whom  it  was 
solemnly  ratified.  Every  precaution  was  observed  which 
would  give  the  promise  that  Caesar  might  be  elected  con- 
sul in  his  absence  the  character  of  a  binding  engagement.^^ 
It  was  observed  with  some  surprise  that  Pompey,  not 
long  after,  proposed  and  carried  a  law  forbidding  elec- 
tions of  this  irregular  kind,  and  insisting  freshly  on  the 
presence  of  the  candidates  in  person.  Caesar's  case  was 
not  reserved  as  an  exception  or  in  any  way  alluded  to. 
And  when  a  question  was  asked  on  the  subject,  the  excuse 
given  w^as  that  it  had  been  overlooked  by  accident.  Such 
accidents  require  to  be  interpreted  by  the  use  which  is 
made  of  them. 

Notes 

*  Page  262.  Ad  Quintum  Fratrem,  ii.  15. 

'  Page  263  '•  Ego  enim  ne  pilo  quidem  minus  me  amabo."— Ibid.,  ii. 
16.     Other  editions  read  "  te." 

2  Page  263.  "Videor  id  judicio  facere  jam  enim  debeo:  sed  amore 
sum  incensus." — Ibid,,  iii.  i. 

*  Page  263.  Ad  Crassum.     "  Ad  Familiares,"  v.  8. 
*Page  264.  Ad  Lentulum.     *'  Ad  Fam.,"  i.  8. 

*  Page  264.  Ad  Lentulum.     •'  Ad  Fam.,"  i.  9. 
'  Page  265.  De  Provinciis  Consularibus. 

8  Page  266.  To  Atticus,  iv.  16. 

'  Page  267.  Pompey,  as  proconsul  with  a  province,  was  residing  out- 
side the  walls. 
'°  Page  267.  Ad  Quintum  Fratrem,  iii.  4. 
"  Page  268.  Ad  Familiares,  i.  9. 

12  Page  269.  "  Meum  non  modo  animum,  sed  ne  odium  quidem  esse 
liberum." — Ad  Quintum  Fratrem,  iii.  5. 

13  Page  269.  See  the  story  in  a  letter  to  Atticus,  lib.  iv.  16-17. 
^*  Page  270.  De  Haruspicum  Responsis. 

15  Page  273.  "  Angitunus  Milo.  Sed  velim  finem  afferat  consulatus: 
in  quo  enitar  non  minus,  quam  sum  enisus  in  nostro." — Ad  Quintum 
Fratrem,  iii.  9. 

i«  Page  273.  Ad  Familiares,  ii.  6. 

"  Page  274.  •'  Incidebantur  jam  domi  leges  quae  nos  nostris  servis 
addicerent.  .  .  Oppressisset  omnia,  possideret,  teneret  lege  nov^,  quae 
est  inventa  apud  eum  cum  reliquis  legibus  Clodianis.  Servos  nostros 
libertos  suos  fecisset." — Pro  Milone,  32,  33.  These  strong' expressions 
can  hardly  refer  to  a  proposed  enfranchisement  of  the  libertini,  or  sons 
of  freedmen,  like  Horace's  father. 

18  Page  274.  "  Csesaris  potentiam  suam  esse  dicebat.   .    .   An  consules 


B.  c.  52]  PROMISE   OF  A   SECOND   CONSULSHIP  279 

in  prsetore  coercendo  fortes  fuissent  ?  Primum,  Milone  occiso  habuisset 
suos  consules." — Pro  Milone,  33. 

"  Page  276.  The  Oratio  pro  Milone,  published  afterwards  by  Cicero, 
was  the  speech  he  intended  to  deliver  and  did  not. 

'''Page  278.  Suetonius,  De  Vit^  Julii  Caesaris.  Cicero  again  and 
again  acknowledges  in  his  letters  to  Atticus  that  the  engagement  had 
really  been  made.  Writing  to  Atticus  (vii.  i),  Cicero  says:  "Non  est 
locus  ad  tergiversandum.  Contra  Caesarem?  Ubi  illae  sunt  densae 
dexterse?  Nam  ut  illi  hoc  liceret  adjuvi  rogatus  ab  ipso  Ravennae  de 
Caelio  tribuno  plebis.  Ab  ipso  autem  ?  Etiam  a  Cnaeo  nostro  in  illo 
divino  tertio  consulatu.     Aliter  sensero  ?  " 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE  conquest  of  Gaul  had  been  an  exploit  of  extraor- 
dinary military  difficulty.  The  intricacy  of  the 
problem  had  been  enhanced  by  the  venom  of  a  do- 
mestic faction,  to  which  the  victories  of  a  democratic  gen- 
eral were  more  unwelcome  than  national  disgrace.  The 
discomfiture  of  Crassus  had  been  more  pleasant  news  to 
the  Senate  than  the  defeat  of  Ariovistus,  and  the  passionate 
hope  of  the  aristocracy  had  been  for  some  opportunity 
which  would  enable  them  to  check  Caesar  in  his  career  of 
conquest  and  bring  him  home  to  dishonour  and  perhaps 
impeachment.  They  had  failed.  The  eiTorts  of  the  Gauls 
to  maintain  or  recover  their  independence  had  been  suc- 
cessively beaten  down,  and  at  the  close  of  the  summer  of 
53  Caesar  had  returned  to  the  North  of  Italy  believing 
that  the  organization  of  the  province  which  he  had  added 
to  the  Empire  was  all  that  remained  to  be  accomplished. 
But  Roman  civilians  had  followed  in  the  van  of  the  armies. 
Roman  traders  had  penetrated  into  the  towns  on  the  Seine 
and  the  Loire,  and  the  curious  Celts  had  learnt  from  them 
the  distractions  of  their  new  rulers.  Caesar's  situation  was 
as  well  understood  among  the  ^dui  and  the  Sequani  as  in 
the  clubs  and  coteries  of  the  capital  of  the  Empire,  and  the 
turn  of  events  was  watched  with  equal  anxiety.  The  vic- 
tory over  Sabinus,  sharply  avenged  as  it  had  been,  kept 
alive  the  hope  that  their  independence  might  yet  be  re- 
covered. The  disaffection  of  the  preceding  summer  had 
been  trampled  out,  but  the  ashes  of  it  were  still  smoulder- 
ing; and  when  it  became  known  that  Clodius,  who  was  re- 
garded as  Caesar's  tribune,  had  been  killed,  that  the  Sen- 
ate was  in  power  again,  and  that  Italy  was  threatened  with 
civil  convulsions,  their  passionate  patriotism  kindled  once 
more  into  flame.     Sudden  in  their  resolutions,  they  did  not 

280 


B.  c.  52]  REVOLT   UNDER  VERCINGETORIX  28 1 

pause  to  watch  how  the  balance  would  incline.  Caesar  was 
across  the  Alps.  Either  he  would  be  deposed,  or  civil 
war  would  detain  him  in  Italy.  His  legions  were  scattered 
between  Treves,  Auxerre,  and  Sens,  far  from  the  Roman 
frontier.  A  simultaneous  rising  would  cut  them  off  from 
support,  and  they  could  be  starved  out  or  overwhelmed  in 
detail,  as  Sabinus  had  been  at  Tongres  and  Cicero  had 
almost  been  at  Charleroy.  Intelligence  was  swiftly  ex- 
changed. The  chiefs  of  all  the  tribes  established  com- 
munications with  each  other.  They  had  been  deeply 
affected  by  the  execution  of  Acco,  the  patriotic  leader  of 
the  Carnutes.  The  death  of  Acco  was  an  intimation  that 
they  were  Roman  subjects,  and  were  to  be  punished  as 
traitors  if  they  disobeyed  a  Roman  command.  They 
buried  their  own  dissensions.  Except  among  the  ^dui 
there  was  no  longer  a  Roman  faction  and  a  patriot  faction. 
The  whole  nation  was  inspired  by  a  simultaneous  impulse 
to  snatch  the  opportunity,  and  unite  in  a  single  effort  to 
assert  their  freedom.  The  understanding  was  complete. 
A  day  was  fixed  for  a  universal  rising.  The  Carnutes  be- 
gan by  a  massacre  which  would  cut  off  possibility  of  re- 
treat, and,  in  revenge  for  Acco,  slaughtered  a  party  of 
Roman  civilians  who  were  engaged  in  business  at  Gien.^ 
A  system  of  signals  had  been  quietly  arranged.  The  mas- 
sacre at  Gien  was  known  in  a  few  hours  in  the  South,  and 
the  Auvergne  country,  which  had  hitherto  been  entirely 
peaceful,  rose  in  reply,  under  a  young  high-born  chief 
named  Vercingetorix.  Gergovia,  the  principal  town  of 
the  Arverni,  was  for  the  moment  undecided.^  The  elder 
men  there,  who  had  known  the  Romans  long,  were  against 
immediate  action;  but  Vercingetorix  carried  the  people 
away  with  him.  His  name  had  not  appeared  in  the  earlier 
campaigns,  but  his  father  had  been  a  man  of  note  beyond 
the  boundaries  of  Auvergne;  and  he  must  himself  have 
had  a  wide  reputation  among  the  Gauls,  for  everywhere, 
from  the  Seine  to  the  Garonne,  he  was  accepted  as  chief  of 
the  national  confederacy.  Vercingetorix  had  high  ability 
and  real  organizing  powers.     He  laid  out  a  plan  for  the 


282  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  52 

general  campaign.  He  fixed  a  contingent  of  men  and 
arms  which  each  tribe  was  to  supply,  and  failure  brought 
instantaneous  punishment.  Mild  offences  were  visited 
with  the  loss  of  eyes  or  ears;  neglect  of  a  more  serious  sort 
with  death  by  fire  in  the  wicker  tower.  Between  enthu- 
siasm and  terror  he  had  soon  an  army  at  his  command, 
which  he  could  increase  indefinitely  at  his  need.  Part  he 
left  to  watch  the  Roman  province  and  prevent  Caesar,  if 
he  should  arrive,  from  passing  through.  With  part  he 
went  himself  to  watch  the  ^dui,  the  great  central  race, 
where  Roman  authority  had  hitherto  prevailed  unshaken, 
but  among  whom,  as  he  well  knew,  he  had  the  mass  of  the 
people  on  his  side.  The  ^dui  were  hesitating.  They 
called  their  levies  under  arms,  as  if  to  oppose  him,  but 
they  withdrew  them  again;  and  to  waver  at  such  a  moment 
was  to  yield  to  the  stream. 

The  Gauls  had  not  calculated  without  reason  on  Caesar's 
embarrassments.  The  death  of  Clodius  had  been  followed 
by  the  burning  of  the  Senate-house  and  by  many  weeks  of 
anarchy.  To  leave  Italy  at  such  a  moment  might  be  to 
leave  it  a  prey  to  faction  or  civil  war.  His  anxiety  was 
relieved  at  last  by  hearing  that  Pompey  had  acted,  and  that 
order  was  restored;  and  seeing  no  occasion  for  his  own  in- 
terference, and  postponing  the  agitation  for  his  second 
consulship,  he  hurried  back  to  encounter  the  final  and  con- 
vulsive effort  of  the  Celtic  race  to  preserve  their  liberties. 
The  legions  were  as  yet  in  no  danger.  They  were  dis- 
persed in  the  North  of  France,  far  from  the  scene  of  the 
present  rising,  and  the  Northern  tribes  had  suffered  too 
desperately  in  the  past  years  to  be  in  a  condition  to  stir 
without  assistance.  But  how  was  Caesar  to  join  them?  The 
garrisons  in  the  province  could  not  be  moved.  If  he  sent 
for  the  army  to  come  across  to  him,  Vercingetorix  would 
attack  them  on  the  march,  and  he  could  not  feel  confident 
of  the  result;  while  the  line  of  the  old  frontier  of  the  prov- 
ince was  in  the  hands  of  the  insurgents,  or  of  tribes  who 
could  not  be  trusted  to  resist  the  temptation,  if  he  passed 
through  himself  without  more  force  than   the  province 


B.  c.  52]  REVOLT   UNDER  VERCINGETORIX  283 

could  supply.  But  Caesar  had  a  resource  which  never 
failed  him  in  the  daring  swiftness  of  his  own  movements. 
He  sent  for  the  troops  which  were  left  beyond  the  Alps. 
He  had  a  few  levies  with  him  to  fill  the  gaps  in  the  old  le- 
gions, and  after  a  rapid  survey  of  the  stations  on  the  pro- 
vincial frontier  he  threw  himself  upon  the  passes  of  the 
Cevennes.  It  was  still  winter.  The  snow  lay  six  feet 
thick  on  the  mountains,  and  the  roads  at  that  season  were 
considered  impracticable  even  for  single  travellers.  The 
Auvergne  rebels  dreamt  of  nothing  so  little  as  of  Caesar's 
coming  upon  them  at  such  a  time  and  from  such  a  quarter. 
He  forced  his  way.  He  fell  on  them  while  they  were  lying 
in  imagined  security,  Vercingetorix  and  his  army  being 
absent  watching  the  ^Edui,  and  letting  loose  his  cavalry, 
he  laid  their  country  waste.  But  Vercingetorix,  he  knew, 
would  fly  back  at  the  news  of  his  arrival;  and  he  had  al- 
ready made  his  further  plans.  He  formed  a  strong  in- 
trenched camp,  where  he  left  Decimus  Brutus  in  charge, 
telling  him  that  he  would  return  as  quickly  as  possible; 
and,  unknown  to  anyone,  lest  the  troops  should  lose  cour- 
age at  parting  with  him,  he  flew  across  through  an  enemy's 
country  with  a  handful  of  attendants  to  Vienne,  on  the 
Rhone,  where  some  cavalry  from, the  province  had  been 
sent  to  wait  for  him.  Vercingetorix,  supposing  him  still 
to  be  in  the  Auvergne,  thought  only  of  the  camp  of 
Brutus;  and  Caesar,  riding  day  and  night  through  the 
doubtful  territories  of  the  ^dui,  reached  the  two  legions 
which  were  quartered  near  Auxerre.  Thence  he  sent  for 
the  rest  to  join  him,  and  he  was  at  the  head  of  his  army 
before  Vercingetorix  knew  that  only  Brutus  was  in  front 
of  him.  The  ^dui,  he  trusted,  would  now  remain  faithful. 
But  the  problem  before  him  was  still  most  intricate.  The 
grass  had  not  begun  to  grow.  Rapid  movement  was  es- 
sential to  prevent  the  rebel  confederacy  from  consolidating 
itself;, but  rapid  movements  with  a  large  force  required  sup- 
plies; and  whence  were  the  supplies  to  come?  Some  risks 
had  to  be  run,  but  to  delay  was  the  most  dangerous  of  all. 
On  the  defeat  of  the  Helvetii,  Caesar  had  planted  a  colony 


284  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  52 

of  them  at  Gorgobines,  near  Nevers,  on  the  Loire.  These 
colonists,  called  Boii,  had  refused  to  take  part  in  the  rising; 
and  Vercingetorix,  turning  in  contempt  from  Brutus,  had 
gone  off  to  punish  them.  Caesar  ordered  the  ^dui  to  fur- 
nish his  commissariat,  sent  word  to  the  Boii  that  he  was 
coming  to  their  relief,  swept  through  the  Senones,  that  he 
might  leave  no  enemy  in  his  rear,  and  then  advanced  on 
Gien,  where  the  Roman  traders  had  been  murdered,  and 
which  the  Carnutes  still  occupied  in  force.  There  was  a 
bridge  there  over  the  Loire,  by  which  they  tried  to  escape 
in  the  night.  Caesar  had  beset  the  passage.  He  took  the 
whole  of  them  prisoners,  plundered  and  burnt  the  town, 
gave  the  spoil  to  his  troops,  and  then  crossed  the  river  and 
went  up  to  help  the  Boii.  He  took  Nevers.  Vercin- 
getorix, who  was  hastening  to  its  relief,  ventured  his 
first  battle  with  him;  but  the  cavalry,  on  which  the 
Gauls  most  depended,  were  scattered  by  Caesar's  German 
horse.  He  was  entirely  beaten,  and  Caesar  turned  next  to 
Avaricum  (Bourges),  a  rich  and  strongly  fortified  town  of 
the  Bituriges.  From  past  experience  Caesar  had  gathered 
that  the  Gauls  were  easily  excited  and  as  easily  discour- 
aged. If  he  could  reduce  Bourges,  he  hoped  that  this 
part  of  the  country  would  return  to  its  allegiance.  Per- 
haps he  thought  that  Vercingetorix  himself  would  give  up 
the  struggle.  But  he  had  to  deal  with  a  spirit  and  with 
a  man  different  from  any  which  he  had  hitherto  encoun- 
tered. Disappointed  in  his  political  expectations,  baffled 
in  strategy,  and  now  defeated  in  open  fight,  the  young 
chief  of  the  Arverni  had  only  learnt  that  he  had  taken  a 
wrong  mode  of  carrying  on  the  war,  and  that  he  was  wast- 
ing his  real  advantages.  Battles  in  the  field  he  saw  that  he 
would  lose.  But  the  Roman  numbers  were  limited,  and 
his  were  infinite.  Tens  of  thousands  of  gallant  young 
men,  with  their  light,  active  horses,  were  eager  for  any 
work  on  which  he  might  set  them.  They  could  scour  the 
country  far  and  wide.  They  could  cut  off  Caesar's  sup- 
plies. They  could  turn  the  fields  into  a  blackened  wilder- 
ness before  him  on  whichever  side  he  might  turn.     The 


B.  c.  52]  REVOLT  UNDER  VERCINGETORIX  285 

hearts  of  the  people  were  with  him.  They  consented  to  a 
universal  sacrifice.  They  burnt  their  farmsteads.  They 
burnt  their  villages.  Twenty  towns  (so  called)  of  the 
Bituriges  were  consumed  in  a  single  day.  The  tribes  ad- 
joining caught  the  enthusiasm.  The  horizon  at  night  was 
a  ring  of  blazing  fires.  Vercingetorix  was  for  burning 
Bourges  also;  but  it  was  the  sacred  home  of  the  Bituriges, 
the  one  spot  which  they  implored  to  be  allowed  to  save, 
the  most  beautiful  city  in  all  Gaul.  Rivers  defended  it  on 
three  sides,  and  on  the  fourth  there  were  swamps  and 
marshes  which  could  be  passed  only  by  a  narrow  ridge. 
Within  the  walls  the  people  had  placed  the  best  of  their 
property,  and  Vercingetorix,  against  his  judgment,  con- 
sented, in  pity  for  their  entreaties,  that  Avaricum  should 
be  defended.  A  strong  garrison  was  left  inside.  Ver- 
cingetorix intrenched  himself  in  the  forests  sixteen  miles 
distant,  keeping  watch  over  Caesar's  communications. 
The  place  could  only  be  taken  by  regular  approaches,  dur- 
ing which  the  army  had  to  be  fed.  The  ^dui  were  grow- 
ing negligent.  The  feeble  Boii,  grateful,  it  seemed,  for 
Caesar's  treatment  of  them,  exerted  themselves  to  the  ut- 
most, but  their  small  resources  were  soon  exhausted.  For 
many  days  the  legions  were  without  bread.  The  cattle  had 
been  driven  into  the  woods.  It  came  at  last  to  actual 
famine.^  "  But  not  one  word  was  heard  from  them,"  says 
Caesar,  "  unworthy  of  the  majesty  of  the  Roman  people 
or  their  own  earlier  victories."  He  told  them  that  if  the 
distress  became  unbearable  he  would  raise  the  siege. 
With  one  voice  they  entreated  him  to  persevere.  They 
had  served  many  years  with  him,  they  said,  and  had 
never  abandoned  any  enterprise  which  they  had  under- 
taken. They  were  ready  to  endure  any  degree  of  hard- 
ship before  they  would  leave  unavenged  their  countrymen 
who  had  been  murdered  at  Gien. 

Vercingetorix,  knowing  that  the  Romans  were  in  diffi- 
culties, ventured  nearer.  Caesar  surveyed  his  position. 
It  had  been  well  chosen  behind  a  deep  morass.  The  le- 
gions clamoured  to  be  allowed  to  advance  and  attack  him, 


286  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  52 

but  a  victory,  he  saw,  would  be  dearly  purchased.  No 
condemnation  could  be  too  severe  for  him,  he  said,  if  he 
did  not  hold  the  lives  of  his  soldiers  dearer  than  his  own 
interest,*  and  he  led  them  back  without  indulging  their 
eagerness. 

The  siege  work  was  unexpectedly  difficult.  The  inhabi- 
tants of  the  Loire  country  were  skilled  artisans,  trained  in 
mines  and  iron  works.  The  walls,  built  of  alternate  lay- 
ers of  stone  and  timber,  were  forty  feet  in  thickness,  and 
could  neither  be  burnt  nor  driven  in  with  the  ram.  The 
town  could  be  taken  only  with  the  help  of  an  agger — a 
bank  of  turf  and  fagots  raised  against  the  wall  of  suffi- 
cient height  to  overtop  the  fortifications.  The  weather 
was  cold  and  wet,  but  the  legions  worked  with  such  a  will 
that  in  twenty-five  days  they  had  raised  their  bank  at  last, 
a  hundred  yards  in  width  and  eighty  feet  high.  As  the 
work  drew  near  its  end  Caesar  himself  lay  out  all  night 
among  the  men,  encouraging  them.  One  morning  at  day- 
break he  observed  that  the  agger  was  smoking.  The  in- 
genious Gauls  had  undermined  it  and  set  it  on  fire.  At 
the  same  moment  they  appeared  along  the  walls  with  pitch- 
balls,  torches,  and  fagots,  which  they  hurled  in  to  feed  the 
fiames.  There  was  an  instant  of  confusion,  but  Caesar  uni- 
formly had  two  legions  under  arms  while  the  rest  were 
working.  The  Gauls  fought  with  a  courage  which  called 
out  his  warm  admiration.  He  watched  them  at  the  points 
of  greatest  danger  falling  under  the  shots  from  the  scor- 
pions, and  others  stepping  undaunted  into  their  places  to 
fall  in  the  same  way.  Their  valour  was  unavailing.  They 
were  driven  in,  and  the  flames  were  extinguished;  the 
agger  was  level  with  the  walls,  and  defence  was  no  longer 
possible.  The  garrison  intended  to  slip  away  at  night 
through  the  ruins  to  join  their  friends  outside.  The  wail- 
ing of  the  women  was  heard  in  the  Roman  camp,  and  es- 
cape was  made  impossible.  The  morning  after,  in  a  tem- 
pest of  rain  and  wind,  the  place  was  stormed.  The  le- 
gionaries, excited  by  the  remembrance  of  Gien  and  the 
long  resistance,  slew  every  human  being  that  they  found, 


B.  c.  52]  FALL  OF  AVARICUM  287 

men,  women,  and  children  all  alike.  Out  of  forty  thou- 
sand who  were  within  the  walls  eight  hundred  only,  that 
had  fled  at  the  first  sound  of  the  attack,  made  their  way  to 
the  camp  of  Vercingetorix. 

Undismayed  by  the  calamity,  Vercingetorix  made  use 
of  it  to  sustain  the  determination  of  his  followers.  He 
pointed  out  to  them  that  he  had  himself  opposed  the  de- 
fence. The  Romans  had  defeated  them,  not  by  superior 
courage,  but  by  superior  science.  The  heart  of  the  whole 
nation  was  united  to  force  the  Romans  out  of  Gaul,  and 
they  had  only  to  persevere  in  a  course  of  action  where 
science  would  be  useless,  to  be  sure  of  success  in  the  end. 
He  fell  back  upon  his  own  country,  taking  special  care  of 
the  poor  creatures  who  had  escaped  from  the  carnage ;  and 
the  effect  of  the  storming  of  Bourges  was  to  make  the  na- 
tional enthusiasm  hotter  and  fiercer  than  before. 

The  Romans  found  in  the  town  large  magazines  of  corn 
and  other  provisions,  which  had  been  laid  in  for  the  siege, 
and  Caesar  remained  there  some  days  to  refresh  his  troops. 
The  winter  was  now  over.  The  ^dui  were  giving  him 
anxiety,  and  as  soon  as  he  could  he  moved  to  Decize,  a 
frontier  town  belonging  to  them  on  the  Loire,  almost  in 
the  very  centre  of  France.  The  anti-Roman  faction  were 
growing  in  influence.  He  called  a  council  of  the  princi- 
pal persons,  and,  to  secure  the  fidelity  of  so  important  a 
tribe,  he  deposed  the  reigning  chief  and  appointed  another 
who  had  been  nominated  by  the  Druids.*^  He  lectured  the 
^>dui  on  their  duty,  bade  them  furnish  him  with  ten  thou- 
sand men,  who  were  to  take  charge  of  the  commissariat, 
and  then  divided  his  army.  Labienus,  with  four  legions, 
was  sent  to  compose  the  country  between  Sens  and  Paris. 
He  himself,  with  the  remaining  six  legions,  ascended  the 
right  bank  of  the  Allier  towards  Gergovia  in  search  of  Ver- 
cingetorix. The  bridges  on  the  Allier  were  broken,  but 
Caesar  seized  and  repaired  one  of  them  and  carried  his 
army  over. 

The  town  of  Gergovia  stood  on  a  high  plateau,  where 
the  rivers  rise  which  run  into  the  Loire  on  one  side  and 


288  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  53 

into  the  Dordogne  on  the  other.  The  sides  of  the  hill 
are  steep,  and  only  accessible  at  a  very  few  places,  and 
the  surrounding  neighbourhood  is  broken  with  rocky  val- 
leys. Vercingetorix  lay  in  force  outside,  but  in  a  situa- 
tion where  he  could  not  be  attacked  except  at  a  disad- 
vantage, and  with  his  communication  with  the  fortress 
secured.  He  was  departing  again  from  his  general  plan 
for  the  campaign  in  allowing  Gergovia  to  be  defended; 
but  it  was  the  central  home  of  his  own  tribe,  and  the  result 
showed  that  he  was  right  in  believing  it  to  be  impregnable. 
Caesar  saw  that  it  was  too  strong  to  be  stormed,  and  that 
it  could  only  be  taken  after  long  operations.  After  a  few 
skirmishes  he  seized  a  spur  of  the  plateau  which  cut  off  the 
garrison  from  their  readiest  water-supply,  and  he  formed 
an  intrenched  camp  upon  it.  He  was  studying  the  rest 
of  the  problem  when  bad  news  came  that  the  ^dui  were 
unsteady  again.  The  ten  thousand  men  had  been  raised 
as  he  had  ordered,  but  on  their  way  to  join  him  they  had 
murdered  the  Roman  ofificers  in  charge  of  them,  and  were 
preparing  to  go  over  to  Vercingetorix.  Leaving  two  le- 
gions to  guard  his  works,  he  intercepted  the  ^duan  con- 
tingent, took  them  prisoners,  and  protected  their  lives.  In 
his  absence  Vercingetorix  had  attacked  the  camp  with  de- 
termined fury.  The  fighting  had  been  desperate,  and 
Caesar  only  returned  in  time  to  save  it.  The  reports  from 
the  ^dui  were  worse  and  worse.  The  patriotic  faction 
had  the  upper  hand,  and  with  the  same  passionate  deter- 
mination to  commit  themselves  irrecoverably,  which  had 
been  shown  before  at  Gien,  they  had  massacred  every  Ro- 
man in  their  territory.  It  was  no  time  for  delaying  over 
a  tedious  siege:  Caesar  was  on  the  point  of  raising  it,  when 
accident  brought  on  a  battle  under  the  walls.  An  oppor- 
tunity seemed  to  ofifer  itself  of  capturing  the  place  by  es- 
calade, which  part  of  the  army  attempted  contrary  to  orders. 
They  fought  with  more  than  their  usual  gallantry.  The 
whole  scene  was  visible  from  the  adjoining  hills,  the  Celtic 
women,  with  long,  streaming  hair,  wildly  gesticulating  on 
the  walls.     The  Romans  were  driven  back  with  worse  loss 


B.  c.  52]  ROMAN  DEFEAT  AT  GERGOVIA  289 

than  they  had  yet  met  with  in  Gaul.  Forty-six  officers 
and  seven  hundred  men  had  been  killed. 

Caesar  was  never  more  calm  than  under  a  reverse.  He 
addressed  the  legions  the  next  day.  He  complimented 
their  courage,  but  he  said  it  was  for  the  general  and  not 
for  them  to  judge  when  assaults  should  be  tried.  He  saw 
the  facts  of  the  situation  exactly  as  they  were.  His  army 
was  divided.  Labienus  was  far  away  with  a  separate  com- 
mand. The  whole  of  Gaul  was  in  flames.  To  persevere 
at  Gergovia  would  only  be  obstinacy,  and  he  accepted  the 
single  military  failure  which  he  met  with  when  present  in 
person  through  the  whole  of  his  Gallic  campaign. 

Difficulties  of  all  kinds  were  now  thickening.  Caesar 
had  placed  magazines  in  Nevers,  and  had  trusted  them  to 
an  ^duan  garrison.  The  ^duans  burnt  the  town  and 
carried  the  stores  over  the  Loire  to  their  own  strongest 
fortress,  Bibracte  (Mont  Beauvray).  The  river  had  risen 
from  the  melting  of  the  snows,  and  could  not  be  crossed 
without  danger;  and  to  feed  the  army  in  its  present  posi- 
tion was  no  longer  possible.  To  retreat  upon  the  prov- 
ince would  be  a  confession  of  defeat.  The  passes  of  the 
Cevennes  would  be  swarming  with  enemies,  and  Labienus 
with  his  four  legions  in  the  west  might  be  cut  off.  With 
swift  decision  he  marched  day  and  night  to  the  Loire.  He 
found  a  ford  where  the  troops  could  cross  with  the  water 
at  their  armpits.  He  sent  his  horse  over  and  cleared  the 
banks.  The  army  passed  safely.  Food  enough  and  in 
plenty  was  found  in  the  ^duans'  country,  and  without 
waiting  he  pressed  on  towards  Sens  to  reunite  his  forces. 
He  understood  the  Gauls,  and  foresaw  what  must  have 
happened. 

Labienus,  when  sent  on  his  separate  command,  had 
made  Sens  his  head-quarters.  All  down  the  Seine  the 
country  was  in  insurrection.  Leaving  the  new  Italian 
levies  at  the  station,  he  went  with  his  experienced  troops 
down  the  left  bank  of  the  river  till  he  came  to  the  Essonne. 
He  found  the  Gauls  intrenched  on  the  other  side,  and, 
without  attempting  to  force  the  passage,  he  marched  back 
19 


290  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  52 

to  Melun,  where  he  repaired  a  bridge  which  the  Gauls  had 
broken,  crossed  over,  and  descended  without  interruption 
to  Paris.  The  town  had  been  burnt,  and  the  enemy  were 
watching  him  from  the  further  bank.  At  this  moment  he 
heard  of  the  retreat  from  Gergovia,  and  of  the  rebellion  of 
the  ^dui.  Such  news,  he  understood  at  once,  would  be 
followed  by  a  rising  in  Belgium.  Report  had  said  that 
Caesar  was  falling  back  on  the  province.  He  did  not  be- 
lieve it.  Caesar,  he  knew,  would  not  desert  him.  His 
own  duty,  therefore,  was  to  make  his  way  back  to  Sens. 
But  to  leave  the  army  of  Gauls  to  accompany  his  retreat 
across  the  Seine,  with  the  tribes  rising  on  all  sides,  was  to 
expose  himself  to  the  certainty  of  being  intercepted.  ''  In 
these  sudden  difificulties,"  says  Caesar,  ''  he  took  counsel 
from  the  valour  of  his  mind."  ^  He  had  brought  a  fleet 
of  barges  with  him  from  Melun.  These  he  sent  down  un- 
perceived  to  a  point  at  the  bend  of  the  river  four  miles 
below  Paris,  and  directed  them  to  wait  for  him  there. 
When  night  fell  he  detached  a  few  cohorts  with  orders  to 
go  up  the  river  with  boats  as  if  they  were  retreating, 
splashing  their  oars,  and  making  as  much  noise  as  possi- 
ble. He  himself  with  three  legions  stole  silently  in  the 
darkness  to  his  barges,  and  passed  over  without  being  ob- 
served. The  Gauls,  supposing  the  whole  army  to  be  in 
flight  for  Sens,  were  breaking  up  their  camp  to  follow  in 
boisterous  confusion.  Labienus  fell  upon  them,  telling 
the  Romans  to  fight  as  if  Caesar  was  present  in  person;  and 
the  courage  with  which  the  Gauls  fought  in  their  surprise 
only  made  the  overthrow  more  complete.  The  insurrec- 
tion in  the  northwest  was  for  the  moment  paralyzed,  and 
Labienus,  secured  by  his  ingenious  and  brilliant  victory, 
returned  to  his  quarters  without  further  accident.  There 
Caesar  came  to  him  as  he  expected,  and  the  army  was  once 
more  together. 

Meanwhile  the  failure  at  Gergovia  had  kindled  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  central  districts  into  white  heat.  The 
^dui,  the  most  powerful  of  all  the  tribes,  were  now  at  one 
with  their  countrymen,  and  Bibracte  became  the  focus  of 


B.  c.  52]       ,  ALESIA  291 

the  national  army.  The  young  Vercingetorix  was  elected 
sole  commander,  and  his  plan,  as  before,  was  to  starve  the 
Romans  out.  Flying  bodies  harassed  the  borders  of  the 
province,  so  that  no  reinforcements  could  reach  them  from 
the  south.  Caesar,  however,  amidst  his  conquests  had  the 
art  of  making  staunch  friends.  What  the  province  could 
not  supply  he  obtained  from  his  allies  across  the  Rhine, 
and  he  furnished  himself  with  bodies  of  German  cavalry, 
which  when  mounted  on  Roman  horses  proved  invaluable. 
In  the  new  form  which  the  insurrection  had  assumed  the 
JEdni  were  the  first  to  be  attended  to.  Caesar  advanced 
leisurely  upon  them,  through  the  high  country  at  the  rise 
of  the  Seine  and  the  Marne,  towards  Alesia,  or  Alice  St. 
Reine.  Vercingetorix  watched  him  at  ten  miles'  distance. 
He  supposed  him  to  be  making  for  the  province,  and  his 
intention  was  that  Caesar  should  never  reach  it.  The  Celts 
at  all  times  have  been  fond  of  emphatic  protestations. 
The  young  heroes  swore  a  solemn  oath  that  they  would 
not  see  wife  or  children  or  parents  more  till  they  had  rid- 
den twice  through  the  Roman  army.  In  this  mood  they 
encountered  Caesar  in  the  valley  of  the  Vingeanne,  a  river 
which  falls  into  the  Saone,  and  they  met  the  fate  which 
necessarily  befell  them  when  their  ungovernable  multi- 
tudes engaged  the  legions  in  the  open  field.  They  were 
defeated  with  enormous  loss:  not  they  riding  through  the 
Roman  army,  but  themselves  ridden  over  and  hewn  down 
by  the  German  horsemen  and  sent  flying  for  fifty  miles 
over  the  hills  into  Alice  St.  Reine.  Caesar  followed  close 
behind,  driving  Vercingetorix  under  the  lines  of  the  fort- 
ress; and  the  siege  of  Alesia,  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
exploits  in  all  military  history,  was  at  once  undertaken. 

Alesia,  like  Gergovia,  is  on  a  hill  sloping  off  all  round, 
with  steep  and,  in  places,  precipitous  sides.  It  lies  between 
two  small  rivers,  the  Ose  and  the  Oserain,  both  of  which 
fall  into  the  Brenne  and  thence  into  the  Seine.  Into  this 
peninsula,  with  the  rivers  on  each  side  of  him,  Vercinget- 
orix had  thrown  himself  with  eighty  thousand  men. 
Alesia  as  a  position  was  impregnable  except  to  famine. 


292  JULIUS  C^SAR  .        [B.  c.  52 

The  water-supply  was  secure.  The  position  was  of  extra- 
ordinary strength.  The  rivers  formed  natural  trenches. 
Bel6w  the  town  to  the  east  they  ran  parallel  for 
three  miles  through  an  open  alluvial  plain  before  they 
reached  the  Brenne.  In  every  other  direction  rose  rocky 
hills  of  equal  height  with  the  central  plateau,  originally 
perhaps  one  wide  tableland,  through  which  the  waters  had 
ploughed  out  the  valleys.  To  attack  Vercingetorix  where 
he  had  placed  himself  was  out  of  the  question;  but  to  block- 
ade him  there,  to  capture  the  leader  of  the  insurrection 
and  his  whole  army,  and  so  in  one  blow  make  an  end  with 
it,  on  a  survey  of  the  situation  seemed  not  impossible.  The 
Gauls  had  thought  of  nothing  less  than  of  being  besieged. 
The  provisions  laid  in  could  not  be  considerable,  and  so 
enormous  a  multitude  could  not  hold  out  many  days. 

At  once  the  legions  were  set  to  work  cutting  trenches  or 
building  walls  as  the  form  of  the  ground  allowed.  Camps 
were  formed  at  different  spots,  and  twenty-three  strong 
blockhouses  at  the  points  which  were  least  defensible. 
The  lines  where  the  circuit  was  completed  were  eleven 
miles  long.  The  part  most  exposed  was  the  broad  level 
meadow  which  spread  out  to  the  west  towards  the  Brenne 
river.  Vercingetorix  had  looked  on  for  a  time,  not  under- 
standing what  was  happening  to  him.  When  he  did 
understand  it,  he  made  desperate  efforts  on  his  side  to 
break  the  net  before  it  closed  about  him.  But  he  could 
do  nothing.  The  Gauls  could  not  be  brought  to  face  the 
Roman  intrenchments.  Their  cavalry  were  cut  to  pieces 
by  the  German  horse.  The  only  hope  was  from  help  with- 
out, and  before  the  lines  were  entirely  finished  horsemen 
were  sent  out  with  orders  to  ride  for  their  lives  into  every 
district  in  Gaul  and  raise  the  entire  nation.  The  crisis  had 
come.  If  the  countrymen  of  Vercingetorix  were  worthy 
of  their  fathers,  if  the  enthusiasm  with  which  they  had  risen 
for  freedom  was  not  a  mere  emotion,  but  the  expression  of 
a  real  purpose,  their  young  leader  called  on  them  to  come 
now,  every  man  of  them,  and  seize  Caesar  in  the  trap  into 
which  he  had  betrayed  himself.      If,  on  the  other  hand. 


B.  c.  52]  ALESIA  293 

they  were  careless,  if  they  allowed  him  and  his  eighty  thou- 
sand men  to  perish  without  an  effort  to  save  them,  the  in- 
dependence which  they  had  ceased  to  deserve  would  be 
lost  forever.  He  had  food,  he  bade  the  messengers  say, 
for  thirty  days;  by  thrifty  management  it  might  be  made 
to  last  a  few  days  longer.  In  thirty  days  he  should  look 
for  relief. 

The  horsemen  sped  away  like  the  bearers  of  the  fiery 
cross.  Caesar  learnt  from  deserters  that  they  had  gone  out, 
and  understood  the  message  which  they  carried.  Already 
he  was  besieging  an  army  far  outnumbering  his  own.  If 
he  persevered,  he  knew  that  he  might  count  with  certainty 
on  being  attacked  by  a  second  army  immeasurably  larger. 
But  the  time  allowed  for  the  collection  of  so  many  men 
might  also  serve  to  prepare  for  their  reception.  Vercin- 
getorix  said  rightly  that  the  Romans  won  their  victories, 
not  by  superior  courage,  but  by  superior  science.  The 
same  power  of  measuring  the  exact  facts  of  the  situation 
which  determined  Caesar  to  raise  the  siege  of  Gergovia 
decided  him  to  hold  on  at  Alesia.  He  knew  exactly,  to 
begin  with,  how  long  Vercingetorix  could  hold  out.  It 
was  easy  for  him  to  collect  provisions  within  his  lines  which 
would  feed  his  own  army  a  few  days  longer.  Fortifica- 
tions the  same  in  kind  as  those  which  prevented  the  be- 
sieged from  breaking  out  would  equally  serve  to  keep  the 
assailants  off.  His  plan  was  to  make  a  second  line  of 
works — an  exterior  line  as  well  as  an  interior  line;  and  as 
the  extent  to  be  defended  would  thus  be  doubled,  he  made 
them  of  a  pecuHar  construction,  to  enable  one  man  to  do  the 
work  of  two.  There  is  no  occasion  to  describe  the  rows 
of  ditches,  dry  and  wet,  the  staked  pitfalls,  the  cervi, 
pronged  instruments,  like  the  branching  horns  of  a  stag: 
the  stimuli,  barbed  spikes  treacherously  concealed  to  im- 
pale the  unwary  and  hold  him  fast  when  caught,  with  which 
the  ground  was  sown  in  irregular  rows;  the  vallus  and  the 
lorica,  and  all  the  varied  contrivances  of  Roman  engineer- 
ing genius.  Military  students  will  read  the  particulars  for 
themselves  in  Caesar's  own  language.     Enough  that  the 


294  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  52 

work  was  done  within  the  time,  with  the  legions  in  perfect 
good  humour,  and  giving  jesting  names  to  the  new  instru- 
ments of  torture  as  Caesar  invented  them.  Vercingetorix 
now  and  then  burst  out  on  the  working  parties,  but  pro- 
duced no  effect.  They  knew  what  they  were  to  expect 
when  the  thirty  days  were  out;  but  they  knew  their  com- 
mander, and  had  absolute  confidence  in  his  judgment. 

Meanwhile,  on  all  sides,  the  Gauls  were  responding  to 
the  call.  From  every  quarter,  even  from  far  off  parts  of 
Belgium,  horse  and  foot  were  streaming  along  the  roads. 
Commius  of  Arras,  Caesar's  old  friend,  who  had  gone  with 
him  to  Britain,  was  caught  with  the  same  frenzy,  and  was 
hastening  among  the  rest  to  help  to  end  him.  At  last  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  of  the  best  fighting  men  that 
Gaul  could  produce  had  collected  at  the  appointed  ren- 
dezvous, and  advanced  with  the  easy  conviction  that  the 
mere  impulse  of  so  mighty  a  force  would  sweep  Caesar  off 
the  earth.  They  were  late  in  arriving.  The  thirty  days 
had  passed,  and  there  were  no  signs  of  the  coming  deliv- 
erers. Eager  eyes  were  straining  from  the  heights  of  the 
plateau;  but  nothing  was  seen  save  the  tents  of  the  legions 
or  the  busy  units  of  men  at  work  on  the  walls  and  trenches. 
Anxious  debates  were  held  among  the  beleaguered  chiefs. 
The  faint-hearted  wished  to  surrender  before  they  were 
starved.  Others  were  in  favour  of  a  desperate  effort  to  cut 
their  way.  through  or  die.  One  speech  Caesar  preserves  for 
its  remarkable  and  frightful  ferocity.  A  prince  of  Au- 
vergne  said  that  the  Romans  conquered  to  enslave  and 
beat  down  the  laws  and  liberties  of  free  nations  under  the 
lictors'  axes,  and  he  proposed  that  sooner  than  yield  they 
should  kill  and  eat  those  who  were  useless  for  fighting. 

Vercingetorix  was  of  noble  nature.  To  prevent  the 
adoption  of  so  horrible  an  expedient,  he  ordered  the  peace- 
ful inhabitants,  with  their  wives  and  children,  to  leave  the 
town.  Caesar  forbade  them  to  pass  his  lines.  Cruel — but 
war  is  cruel;  and  where  a  garrison  is  to  be  reduced  by 
famine  the  laws  of  it  are  inexorable. 

But  the  day  of  expected  deliverance  dawned  at  last. 


B.  c.  52]  BATTLE    BEFORE    ALESIA  295 

Five  miles  beyond  the  Brenne  the  dust-clouds  of  the  ap- 
proaching host  were  seen,  and  then  the  glitter  of  their 
lances  and  their  waving  pennons.  They  swam  the  river. 
They  filled  the  plain  below  the  town.  From  the  heights 
of  Alesia  the  whole  scene  lay  spread  under  the  feet  of  the 
besieged.  Vercingetorix  came  down  on  the  slope  to  the 
edge  of  the  first  trench,  prepared  to  cross  when  the  turn 
of  battle  should  give  him  a  chance  to  strike.  Caesar  sent 
out  his  German  horse,  and  stood  himself  watching  from  the 
spur  of  an  adjoining  hill.  The  Gauls  had  brought  in- 
numerable archers  with  them.  The  horse  flinched  slightly 
under  the  showers  of  arrows,  and  shouts  of  triumph  rose 
from  the  lines  of  the  town;  but  the  Germans  rallied  again, 
sent  the  cavalry  of  the  Gauls  flying,  and  hewed  down  the 
unprotected  archers.  Vercingetorix  fell  back  sadly  to  his 
camp  on  the  hill,  and  then  for  a  day  there  was  a  pause. 
The  reUeving  army  had  little  food  with  them,  and  if  they 
acted  at  all  must  act  quickly.  They  spread  over  the  coun- 
try collecting  fagots  to  fill  the  trenches,  and  making  lad- 
ders to  storm  the  walls.  At  midnight  they  began  their 
assault  on  the  lines  in  the  plain  and  Vercingetorix,  hearing 
by  the  cries  that  the  work  had  begun,  gave  his  own  signal 
for  a  general  sally.  The  Roman  arrangements  had  been 
completed  long  before.  Every  man  knew  his  post.  The 
slings,  the  crossbows,  the  scorpions  were  all  at  hand  and  in 
order.  Mark  Antony  and  Gains  Trebonius  had  each  a 
flying  division  under  them  to  carry  help  where  the  pres- 
sure was  most  severe.  The  Gauls  were  caught  on  the 
cervi,  impaled  on  the  stimuli,  and  fell  in  heaps  under  the 
bolts  and  balls  which  were  poured  from  the  walls.  They 
could  make  no  impression,  and  fell  back  at  daybreak  beaten 
and  dispirited.  Vercingetorix  had  been  unable  even  to 
pass  the  moats  and  trenches,  and  did  not  come  into  action 
till  his  friends  had  abandoned  the  attack. 

The  Gauls  had  not  yet  taken  advantage  of  their  enormous 
numbers.  Defeated  on  the  level  ground,  they  next  tried 
the  heights.  The  Romans  were  distributed  in  a  ring  now 
fourteen  miles  in  extent.     On  the  north  side,  beyond  the 


296  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  52 

Ose,  the  works  were  incomplete,  owing  to  the  nature  of  the 
ground,  and  their  Hues  lay  on  the  slope  of  the  hills  descend- 
ing towards  the  river.  Sixty  thousand  picked  men  left  the 
Gauls'  camp  before  dawn;  they  stole  round  by  a  distant 
route,  and  were  allowed  to  rest  concealed  in  a  valley  till  the 
middle  of  the  day.  At  noon  they  came  over  the  ridge  at 
the  Romans'  back;  and  they  had  the  best  of  the  position, 
being  able  to  attack  from  above.  Their  appearance  was 
the  signal  for  a  general  assault  on  all  sides,  and  for  a  deter- 
mined sally  by  Vercingetorix  from  within.  Thus  before, 
behind,  and  everywhere,  the  legions  were  assailed  at  the 
same  moment;  and  Caesar  observes  that  the  cries  of  battle 
in  the  rear  are  always  more  trying  to  men  than  the  fiercest 
onset  upon  them  in  front;  because  what  they  cannot  see 
they  imagine  more  formidable  than  it  is,  and  they  depend 
for  their  own  safety  on  the  courage  of  others. 

Caesar  had  taken  his  stand  where  he  could  command  the 
whole  action.  There  was  no  smoke  in  those  engagements, 
and  the  scene  was  transparently  visible.  Both  sides  felt 
that  the  deciding  trial  had  come.  In  the  plain  the  Gauls 
made  no  more  impression  than  on  the  preceding  day. 
At  the  weak  point  on  the  north  the  Romans  were  forced 
back  down  the  slope,  and  could  not  hold  their  positions. 
Caesar  saw  it,  and  sent  Labienus  with  six  cohorts  to  their 
help.  Vercingetorix  had  seen  it  also,  and  attacked  the  in- 
terior lines  at  the  same  spot.  Decimus  Brutus  was  then 
despatched  also,  and  then  Caius  Fabius.  Finally,  when  the 
fighting  grew  desperate,  he  left  his  own  station;  he  called 
up  the  reserves  which  had  not  yet  been  engaged,  and  he^ 
rode  across  the  field,  conspicuous  in  his  scarlet  dress  and 
with  his  bare  head,  cheering  on  the  men  as  he  passed  each 
point  where  they  were  engaged,  and  hastening  to  the  scene 
where  the  chief  danger  lay.  He  sent  round  a  few  squad- 
rons of  horse  to  the  back  of  the  hills  which  the  Gauls  had 
crossed  in  the  morning.  He  himself  joined  Labienus. 
Wherever  he  went  he  carried  enthusiasm  along  with  him. 
The  legionaries  flung  away  their  darts  and  rushed  upon  the 
enemy  sword  in  hand.     The  cavalry  appeared  above  on  the 


B.  c.  52]  DEFEAT   OF    THE    GAULS  297 

heights.  The  Gauls  wavered,  broke,  and  scattered.  The 
German  horse  were  among  them,  hewing  down  the  brave 
but  now  helpless  patriots  who  had  come  with  such  high 
hopes  and  fought  so  gallantly.  Out  ot  the  sixty  thousand 
that  had  sallied  forth  in  the  morning,  all  but  a  draggled 
remnant  lay  dead  on  the  hill-sides.  Seventy-four  stand- 
ards were  brought  in  to  Caesar.  The  besieged  retired  into 
Alesia  again  in  despair.  The  vast  hosts  that  were  to  have 
set  them  free  melted  away.  In  the  morning  they  were 
streaming  over  the  country,  making  back  for  their  homes, 
with  Caesar's  cavalry  behind  them,  cutting  them  down  and 
capturing  them  in  thousands. 

The  work  was  done.  The  most  daring  feat  in  the  mili- 
tary annals  of  mankind  had  been  successfully  accompUshed. 
A  Roman  army  which  could  not  at  the  utmost  have 
amounted  to  fifty  thousand  men  had  held  blockaded  an 
army  of  eighty  thousand — not  weak  Asiatics,  but  European 
soldiers,  as  strong  and  as  brave  individually  as  the  Italians 
were;  and  they  had  defeated,  beaten,  and  annihilated  an- 
other army  which  had  come  expecting  to  overwhelm  them, 
five  times  as  large  as  their  own. 

Seeing  that  all  was  over,  Vercingetorix  called  the  chiefs 
about  him.  He  had  gone  into  the  war,  he  said,  for  no 
object  of  his  own,  but  for  the  liberty  of  his  country.  For- 
tune had  gone  against  him;  and  he  advised  them  to  make 
their  peace,  either  by  killing  him  and  sending  his  head  to 
the  conqueror  or  by  delivering  him  up  alive.  A  humble 
message  of  submission  was  despatched  to  Caesar.  He  de- 
manded an  unconditional  surrender,  and  the  Gauls,  starv- 
ing and  hopeless,  obeyed.  The  Roman  general  sat  amidst 
the  works  in  front  of  the  camp  while  the  chiefs  one  by  one 
were  produced  before  him.  The  brave  Vercingetorix,  as 
noble  in  his  calamity  as  Caesar  himself  in  his  success,  was 
reserved  to  be  shown  in  triumph  to  the  populace  of  Rome. 
The  whole  of  his  army  were  prisoners  of  war.  The  ^dui 
and  Arverni  among  them  were  set  aside,  and  were  dis- 
missed after  a  short  detention  for  political  reasons.  The 
remainder  were  sold  to  the  contractors,  and  the  proceeds 


298  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  52-51 

were  distributed  as  prize-money  among  the  legions. 
Caesar  passed  the  winter  at  Bibracte,  receiving  the  sub- 
mission of  the  chiefs  of  the  ^dui  and  of  the  Auvergne. 
Wounds  received  in  war  soon  heal  if  gentle  measures  fol- 
low a  victory.  If  tried  by  the  manners  of  his  age,  Caesar 
was  the  most  merciful  of  conquerors.  His  high  aim  was, 
not  to  enslave  the  Gauls,  but  to  incorporate  them  in  the 
Empire;  to  extend  the  privileges  of  Roman  citizens 
among  them  and  among  all  the  undegenerate  races  of 
the  European  provinces.  He  punished  no  one.  He  was 
gracious  and  considerate  to  all,  and  he  so  impressed  the 
central  tribes  by  his  judgment  and  his  moderation  that 
they  served  him  faithfully  in  all  his  coming  troubles,  and 
never  more,  even  in  the  severest  temptations,  made  an 
effort  to  recover  their  independence. 

Much,  however,  remained  to  be  done.  The  insurrec- 
tion had  shaken  the  whole  of  Gaul.  The  distant  tribes  had 
all  joined  in  it,  either  actively  or  by  sympathy;  and  the 
patriots  who  had  seized  the  control,  despairing  of  pardon, 
thought  their  only  hope  was  in  keeping  rebellion  alive. 
During  winter  they  believed  themselves  secure.  The  Car- 
nutes  of  the  Eure  and  Loire,  under  a  new  chief  named 
Gutruatus,^  and  the  Bituriges,  untaught  by  or  savage  at 
the  fate  of  Bourges,  were  still  defiant.  When  the  winter 
was  at  its  deepest,  Caesar  suddenly  appeared  across  the 
Loire.  He  caught  the  country  people  unprepared,  and 
captured  them  in  their  farms.  The  swiftness  of  his 
marches  baffled  alike  flight  and  resistance;  he  crushed  the 
whole  district  down,  and  he  was  again  at  his  quarters  in 
forty  days.  As  a  reward  to  the  men  who  had  followed 
him  so  cheerfully  in  the  cold  January  campaign,  he  gave 
each  private  legionary  200  sesterces  and  each  centurion 
2000.  Eighteen  days'  rest  was  all  that  he  allowed  himself, 
and  with  fresh  troops,  and  in  storm  and  frost,  he  started 
for  the  Carnutes.  The  rebels  were  to  have  no  rest  till  they 
submitted.  The  Bellovaci  were  now  out  also.  The  Remi 
alone  of  all  the  Gauls  had  continued  faithful  in  the  rising  of 
Vercingetorix.     The  Bellovaci,  led  by  Commius  of  Arras, 


B.  c.  51-50]      FINAL    SUPPRESSION    OF    THE    REVOLT  299 

were  preparing  to  burn  the  territory  of  the  Remi  as  a  pun- 
ishment. Commius  was  not  as  guilty,  perhaps,  as  he 
seemed.  Labienus  had  suspected  him  of  intending  mis- 
chief when  he  was  on  the  Seine  in  the  past  summer,  and 
had  tried  to  entrap  and  kill  him.  Anyway  Caesar's  first 
object  was  to  show  the  Gauls  that  no  friends  of  Rome 
would  be  allowed  to  suffer.  He  invaded  Normandy;  he 
swept  the  country.  He  drove  the  Bellovaci  and  the  Car- 
nutes  to  collect  in  another  great  army  to  defend  them- 
selves; he  set  upon  them  with  his  usual  skill,  and  destroyed 
them.  Commius  escaped  over  the  Rhine  to  Germany. 
Gutruatus  was  taken.  Caesar  would  have  pardoned  him; 
but  the  legions  were  growing  savage  at  these  repeated  and 
useless  commotions,  and  insisted  on  his  execution.  The 
poor  wretch  was  flogged  till  he  was  insensible,  and  his  head 
was  cut  off  by  the  lictor's  axe. 

All  Gaul  was  now  submissive,  its  spirit  broken,  and,  as 
the  event  proved,  broken  finally,  except  in  the  southwest. 
Eight  years  out  of  the  ten  of  Caesar's  government  had  ex- 
pired. In  one  corner  of  the  country  only  the  dream  still 
survived  that  if  the  patriots  could  hold  out  till  Caesar  was 
gone,  Celtic  liberty  might  yet  have  a  chance  of  recovering 
itself.  A  single  tribe  on  the  Dordogne,  relying  on  the 
strength  of  a  fortress  in  a  situation  resembling  that  of 
Gergovia,  persisted  in  resistance  to  the  Roman  authority. 
The  spirit  of  national  independence  is  like  a  fire:  so  long 
as  a  spark  remains  a  conflagration  can  again  be  kindled, 
and  Caesar  felt  that  he  must  trample  out  the  last  ember 
that  was  alive.  Uxellodunum — so  the  place  was  named — 
stood  on  an  inaccessible  rock,  and  was  amply  provisioned. 
It  could  be  taken  only  as  Edinburgh  Castle  was  once  taken, 
by  cutting  off  its  water;  and  the  ingenious  tunnel  may  still 
be  seen  by  which  the  Roman  engineers  tapped  the  spring 
that  supplied  the  garrison.  They,  too,  had  then  to  yield, 
and  the  war  in  Gaul  was  over. 

The  following  winter  Caesar  spent  at  Arras.  He  wished 
to  hand  over  his  conquests  to  his  successor  not  only  sub- 
dued but  reconciled  to  subjection.     He  invited  the  chiefs 


300     ,  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  50 

of  all  the  tribes  to  come  to  him.  He  spoke  to  them  of  the 
future  which  lay  open  to  them  as  members  of  a  splendid 
Imperial  State.  He  gave  them  magnificent  presents.  He 
laid  no  impositions  either  on  the  leaders  or  their  people, 
and  they  went  to  their  homes  personally  devoted  to  their 
conqueror,  contented  with  their  condition,  and  resolved 
to  maintain  the  peace  which  was  now  established — a  unique 
experience  in  political  history.  The  Norman  Conquest  of 
England  alone  in  the  least  resembles  it.  In  the  spring  of  50 
Caesar  went  to  Italy.  Strange  things  had  happened  mean- 
while in  Rome.  So  long  as  there  was  a  hope  that  Caesar 
would  be  destroyed  by  the  insurrection  the  ill-minded 
Senate  had  waited  to  let  the  Gauls  do  the  work  for  them. 
The  chance  was  gone.  He  had  risen  above  his  perils  more 
brilliant  than  ever,  and  nothing  now  was  left  to  them  but 
to  defy  and  trample  on  him.  Servius  Galba,  who  was 
favourable  to  Caesar,  had  stood  for  the  consulship  for  49, 
and  had  received  a  majority  of  votes.  The  election  was  set 
aside.  Two  patricians,  Lentulus  and  Caius  Marcellus,were 
declared  chosen,  and  their  avowed  purpose  was  to  strip  the 
conqueror  of  Gaul  of  his  honours  and  rewards.®  The  people 
of  his  own  Cisalpine  Province  desired  to  show  that  they  at 
least  had  no  sympathy  with  such  envenomed  animosities. 
In  the  colonies  in  Lombardy  and  Venetia  Caesar  was  re- 
ceived with  the  most  passionate  demonstrations  of  affec- 
tion. The  towns  were  dressed  out  with  flags  and  flowers. 
The  inhabitants  crowded  into  the  streets  with  their  wives 
and  children  to  look  at  him  as  he  passed.  The  altars 
smoked  with  offerings;  the  temples  were  thronged  with 
worshippers  praying  the  immortal  gods  to  bless  the  great- 
est of  the  Romans.  He  had  yet  one  more  year  to  govern. 
After  a  brief  stay  he  rejoined  his  army.  He  spent  the  sum- 
mer in  organizing  the  administration  of  the  different  dis- 
tricts and  assigning  his  officers  their  various  commands. 
That  he  did  not  at  this  time  contemplate  any  violent 
interference  with  the  Constitution  may  be  proved  by  the 
distribution  of  his  legions,  which  remained  stationed  far 
away  in  Belgium  and  on  the  Loire. 


B.  c.  50]  AFFAIRS    AT    ROME  3OI 


Notes 

*  Page  281.  Above  Orleans,  on  the  Loire. 

•  Page  281.  Four  miles  from  Clermont,  on  the  AUier,  in  the  Puy-de- 
D6me. 

•Page  285.  "Extrema  fames."— De  Bell.  Gall.,  vii.  17. 

*Page  286.  "  SummS,  se  iniquitatis  condemnari  debere  nisi  eorum 
vitam  sua  salute  habeat  cariorem." 

^Page  287.  De  Bell.  Gall.,  vii.  33. 

•Page  290.  "Tantis  subito  difficultatibus  objectis  ab  animi  virtute 
consilium  petebat." 

'  Page  298.  Gudrund  ?    The  word  has  a  German  sound. 

•Page  300.  "  Insolenter  adversarii  sui  gloriabantur  L.  Lentulum  et 
C.  Marcellura  consules  creatos,  qui  omnem  honorem  et  dignitatem 
Caesaris  exspoliarent.  Ereptum  Servio  Galbae  consulatum  cum  is 
multo  plus  gratia  suffragiisque  valuisset,  quod  sibi  conjunctus  et  f amili- 
aritate  et  necessitudine  legationis  esset." — Auli  Hertii  De  Bell.  Gall., 
viii.  50. 


CHAPTER  XX 

CRASSUS  had  been  destroyed  by  the  Parthians. 
The  nomination  of  his  successor  lay  with  the  Sen- 
ate, and  the  Senate  gave  a  notable  evidence  of 
their  incapacity  for  selecting  competent  governors  for  the 
provinces  by  appointing  in  his  place  Caesar's  old  colleague, 
Bibulus.  In  their  whole  number  there  was  no  such  fool  as 
Bibulus.  When  he  arrived  in  Syria  he  shut  himself  into  a 
fortified  town,  leaving  the  Parthians  to  plunder  and  burn 
at  their  pleasure.  Cicero  mocked  at  him.  The  Senate 
thanked  him  for  his  distinguished  services.  The  few 
serious  men  in  Rome  thought  that  Caesar  or  Pompey 
should  be  sent  out ;  ^  or,  if  they  could  not  be  spared,  at 
least  one  of  the  consuls  of  the  year — Sulpicius  Rufus  or 
Marcus  Marcellus.  But  the  consuls  were  busy  with  home 
politics  and  did  not  wish  to  go,  nor  did  they  wish  that 
others  should  go  and  gather  laurels  instead  of  them. 
Therefore  nothing  was  done  at  all,^  and  Syria  was  left  to 
fate  and  Bibulus.  The  consuls  and  the  aristocracy  had,  in 
fact,  more  serious  matters  to  attend  to.  Caesar's  time  was 
running  out,  and  when  it  was  over  he  had  been  promised 
the  consulship.  That  consulship  the  faction  of  the  Con- 
servatives had  sworn  that  he  should  never  hold.  Cato 
was  threatening  him  with  impeachment,  blustering  that 
he  should  be  tried  under  a  guard,  as  Milo  had  been.* 
Marcellus  was  saying  openly  that  he  would  call  him  home 
in  disgrace  before  his  term  was  over.  Como,  one  of  the 
most  thriving  towns  in  the  north  of  Italy,  had  been  en- 
franchised by  Caesar.  An  eminent  citizen  from  Como 
happening  to  be  at  Rome,  Marcellus  publicly  flogged  him, 
and  bade  him  go  back  and  tell  his  fellow-townsmen  the 
value  of  Caesar's  gift  to  them.  Cicero  saw  the  folly  of  such 
actions;^  but  the  aristocracy  were  mad — mad  with  pride 

302 


B.  c.  51]  FEARS   OF  THE   ARISTOCRACY  303 

and  conscious  guilt  and  fear.  The  ten  years  of  Caesar's 
government  would  expire  at  the  end  of  49.  The  engage- 
ment had  been  entered  into  that  he  was  to  see  his  term  out 
with  his  army  and  return  to  Rome  for  48 — as  consul. 
They  remembered  his  first  consulship  and  what  he  had 
done  with  it,  and  the  laws  which  he  had  passed — laws 
which  they  could  not  repeal;  yet  how  had  they  observed 
them?  If  he  had  been  too  strong  for  them  all  when  he 
was  but  one  of  themselves,  scarcely  known  beyond  the 
Forum  and  Senate-house,  what  would  he  do  now,  when  he 
was  recognised  as  the  greatest  soldier  which  Rome  had 
produced,  the  army,  the  people,  Italy,  the  provinces  all 
adoring  his  name?  Consul  again  he  could  not,  must  not 
be.  Yet  how  could  it  be  prevented?  It  was  useless  now 
to  bribe  the  Comitia,  to  work  with  clubs  and  wire-pullers. 
The  enfranchised  citizens  would  come  to  vote  for  Caesar 
from  every  country  town.  The  legionaries  to  a  man 
would  vote  for  him;  and  even  in  the  venal  city  he  was  the 
idol  of  the  hour.  No  fault  could  be  found  with  his  admin- 
istration. His  wars  had  paid  their  own  expenses.  He  had 
doubled  the  pay  of  his  troops,  but  his  military  chest  was 
still  full,  and  his  own  wealth  seemed  boundless.  He  was 
adorning  the  Forum  with  new  and  costly  buildings.  Sen- 
ators, knights,  young  men  of  rank  who  had  been  extrava- 
gant, had  been  relieved  by  his  generosity  and  were  his 
pensioners.  Gaul  might  have  been  impatient  at  its  loss  of 
liberty,  but  no  word  of  complaint  was  heard  against  Caesar 
for  oppressive  government.  The  more  genius  he  had 
shown  the  more  formidable  he  was.  Let  him  be  consul, 
and  he  would  be  the  master  of  them  all. 

Caesar  has  been  credited  with  far-reaching  designs.  It 
has  been  assumed  that  in  early  life  he  had  designed  the 
overthrow  of  the  constitution;  that  he  pursued  his  pur- 
pose steadily  through  every  stage  in  his  career,  and  that 
he  sought  the  command  of  Gaul  only  to  obtain  an  army 
devoted  to  him  which  would  execute  his  will.  It  has  not 
seemed  incredible  that  a  man  of  middle  age  undertook  the 
conquest  of  a  country  of  which  nothing  was  known  save 


304  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  51 

that  it  was  inhabited  by  warlike  races,  who  more  than 
once  had  threatened  to  overrun  Italy  and  destroy  Rome; 
that  he  went  through  ten  years  of  desperate  fighting  ex- 
posed to  a  thousand  dangers  from  the  sword,  from  ex- 
posure and  hardship;  that  for  ten  years  he  had  banished 
himself  from  Rome,  uncertain  whether  he  would  ever  see 
it  again;  and  that  he  had  ventured  upon  all  this  with  no 
other  object  than  that  of  eventually  controlling  domestic 
politics.  A  lunatic  might  have  entertained  such  a  scheme, 
but  not  a  Caesar.  The  Senate  knew  him.  They  knew 
what  he  had  done.  They  knew  what  he  would  now  do,  and 
for  this  reason  they  feared  and  hated  him.  Caesar  was  a  re- 
former. He  had  long  seen  that  the  Roman  Constitu- 
tion was  too  narrow  for  the  functions  which  had  fallen  to 
it,  and  that  it  was  degenerating  into  an  instrument  of 
tyranny  and  injustice.  The  courts  of  law  were  corrupt;  the 
elections  were  corrupt.  The  administration  of  the  prov- 
inces was  a  scandal  and  a  curse.  The  soil  of  Italy  had 
become  a  monopoly  of  capitalists,  and  the  inhabitants  of  it 
a  population  of  slaves.  He  had  exerted  himself  to  stay  the 
mischief  at  its  fountain,  to  punish  bribery,  to  punish  the 
rapacity  of  proconsuls  and  propraetors,  to  purify  the  courts, 
to  maintain  respect  for  the  law.  He  had  endeavoured  to 
extend  the  franchise,  to  raise  the  position  of  the  liberated 
slaves,  to  replace  upon  the  land  a  free  race  01  Roman  citi- 
zens. The  old  Roman  sentiment,  the  consciousness  of  the 
greatness  of  the  country  and  of  its  mighty  destinies,  was 
chiefly  now  to  be  found  in  the  armies.  In  the  families  of 
veteran  legionaries,  spread  in  farms  over  Italy  and  the 
provinces,  the  national  spirit  might  revive;  and,  with  a  due 
share  of  political  power  conceded  to  them,  an  enlarged  and 
purified  constituency  might  control  the  votes  of  the  venal 
populace  of  the  city.  These  were  Caesar's  designs,  so  far 
as  could  have  been  gathered  from  his  earlier  actions;  but 
the  manipulation  of  elections,  the  miserable  contest  with 
disafifected  colleagues  and  a  hostile  Senate,  were  dreary  oc- 
cupations for  such  a  man  as  he  was.  He  was  conscious  of 
powers  which  in  so  poor  a  sphere  could  find  no  expression. 


B.  c.  51]  AMBITION   OF   CESAR  305 

He  had  ambition  doubtless — plenty  of  it — ambition  not  to 
pass  away  without  leaving  his  mark  on  the  history  of  his 
country.  As  a  statesman  he  had  done  the  most  which 
could  be  done  when  he  was  consul  the  first  time,  and  he  had 
afterwards  sought  a  free  field  for  his  adventurous  genius 
in  a  new  country,  and  in  rounding  off  into  security  the 
frontiers  of  the  Empire  on  the  side  where  danger  was  most 
threatening.  The  proudest  self-confidence  could  not  have 
allowed  him  at  his  time  of  life  to  calculate  on  returning 
to  Rome  to  take  up  again  the  work  of  reformation. 

But  Caesar  had  conquered.  He  had  made  a  name  for 
himself  as  a  soldier  before  which  the  Scipios  and  the  Lucul- 
luses,  the  Syllas  and  Pompeys  paled  their  glory.  He  was 
coming  back  to  lay  at  his  country's  feet  a  province  larger 
than  Spain — not  subdued  only,  but  reconciled  to  subjuga- 
tion; a  nation  of  warriors,  as  much  devoted  to  him  as  his 
own  legions.  The  aristocracy  had  watched  his  progress 
with  the  bitterest  malignity.  When  he  was  struggling 
with  the  last  spasms  of  Gallic  liberty,  they  had  talked  in 
delighted  whispers  of  his  reported  ruin.*  But  his  genius 
had  risen  above  his  difficulties  and  shone  out  more  glorious 
than  before.  When  the  war  was  over  the  Senate  had  been 
forced  to  vote  twenty  days  of  thanksgiving.  Twenty  days 
were  not  enough  for  Roman  enthusiasm.  The  people 
made  them  into  sixty. 

If  Caesar  came  to  Rome  as  consul,  the  Senate  knew  too 
well  what  it  might  expect.  What  he  had  been  before  he 
would  be  again,  but  more  severe,  as  his  power  was  greater. 
Their  own  guilty  hearts  perhaps  made  them  fear  another 
Marian  proscription.  Unless  his  command  could  be 
brought  to  an  end  in  some  far  different  form,  their  days  of 
power  were  numbered,  and  the  days  of  inquiry  and  pun- 
ishment would  begin. 

Cicero  had  for  some  time  seen  what  was  coming.    He  had 

preferred  characteristically  to  be  out  of  the  way  at  the 

moment  when  he  expected  that  the  storm  would  break, 

and  had  accepted  the  government  of  Cilicia  and  Cyprus. 

He  was  thus  absent  while  the  active  plot  was  in  prepara- 
20 


306  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  51-50 

tion.  One  great  step  had  been  gained — the  Senate  had 
secured  Pompey.  Caesar's  greatness  was  too  much  for 
him.  He  could  never  again  hope  to  be  the  first  on  the 
popular  side,  and  he  preferred  being  the  saviour  of  the  con- 
stitution to  playing  second  to  a  person  whom  he  had  pat- 
ronized. Pompey  ought  long  since  to  have  been  in  Spain 
with  his  troops;  but  he  had  stayed  at  Rome  to  keep  order, 
and  he  had  lingered  on  with  the  same  pretext.  The  first 
step  was  to  weaken  Caesar  and  to  provide  Pompey  with  a 
force  in  Italy.  The  Senate  discovered  suddenly  that  Asia 
Minor  was  in  danger  from  the  Parthians.  They  voted  that 
Caesar  and  Pompey  must  each  spare  a  legion  for  the  East. 
Pompey  gave  as  his  part  the  legion  which  he  had  lent  to 
Caesar  for  the  last  campaign.  Caesar  was  invited  to  re- 
store it  and  furnish  another  of  his  own.  Caesar  was  then 
in  Belgium.  He  saw  the  object  of  the  demand  perfectly 
clearly;  but  he  sent  the  two  legions  without  a  word,  con- 
tenting himself  with  making  handsome  presents  to  the  offi- 
cers and  men  on  their  leaving  him.  When  they  reached 
Italy  the  Senate  found  that  they  were  wanted  for  home 
service,  and  they  were  placed  under  Pompey's  command 
in  Campania.  The  consuls  chosen  for  the  year  49  were 
Lucius  Cornelius  Lentulus  and  Caius  Marcellus,  both  of 
them  Caesar's  open  enemies.  Caesar  himself  had  been 
promised  the  consulship  (there  could  be  no  doubt  of  his 
election,  if  his  name  was  accepted  in  his  absence)  for  the 
year  48.  He  was  to  remain  with  his  troops  till  his  term 
had  run  out,  and  to  be  allowed  to  stand  while  still  in  com- 
mand. This  was  the  distinct  engagement  which  the 
assembly  had  ratified.  After  the  consular  election  had 
been  secured  in  the  autumn  of  50  to  the  Conservative  can- 
didates, it  was  proposed  that  by  a  displacement  of  dates 
Caesar's  government  should  expire,  not  at  the  close  of 
the  tenth  year,  but  in  the  spring,  on  the  ist  of  March. 
Convenient  constitutional  excuses  were  found  for  the 
change.  On  the  ist  of  March  he  was  to  cease  to  be  gov- 
ernor of  Gaul.  A  successor  was  to  be  named  to  take  over 
his  army.     He  would  then  have  to  return  to  Rome,  and 


B.  c.  50]  SENATORIAL  INTRIGUES  307 

would  lie  at  the  mercy  of  his  enemies.  Six  months  would 
intervene  before  the  next  elections,  during  which  he  might 
be  impeached,  incapacitated,  or  otherwise  disposed  of; 
while  Pompey  and  his  two  legions  could  effectually  prevent 
any  popular  disturbance  in  his  favour.  The  Senate  hesi- 
tated before  decisively  voting  the  recall.  An  intimation 
was  conveyed  to  Caesar  that  he  had  been  mistaken  about 
his  term,  which  would  end  sooner  than  he  had  supposed; 
and  the  world  was  waiting  to  see  how  he  would  take  it. 
Atticus  thought  that  he  would  give  way.  His  having 
parted  so  easily  with  two  legions  did  not  look  Hke  re- 
sistance. Marcus.  Caelius,  a  correspondent  of  Cicero,  who 
had  been  elected  praetor  for  49,  and  kept  his  friend  informed 
how  things  were  going  on,  wrote  in  the  autumn: — 

''  All  is  at  a  standstill  about  the  Gallic  government.  The 
subject  has  been  raised,  and  is  again  postponed.  Pom- 
pey's  view  is  plain,  that  Caesar  must  leave  his  province 
after  the  ist  of  March  ....  but  he  does  not  think  that 
before  that  time  the  Senate  can  properly  pass  a  resolution 
about  it.  After  the  ist  of  March  he  will  have  no  hesita- 
tion. When  he  was  asked  what  he  would  do  if  a  tribune 
interposed,  he  said  it  made  no  difference  whether  Caesar 
himself  obeyed  the  Senate,  or  provided  someone  else 
to  interfere  with  the  Senate.  Suppose,  said  one,  Caesar 
wishes  to  be  consul  and  to  keep  his  army.  Pompey  an- 
swered, '  What  if  my  son  wishes  to  lay  a  stick  on  my  back?  ' 
....  It  appears  that  Caesar  will  accept  one  or  other  of 
two  conditions;  either  to  remain  in  his  province,  and  post- 
pone his  claim  for  the  consulship;  or,  if  he  can  be  named 
for  the  consulship,  then  to  retire.  Curio  is  all  against  him. 
What  he  can  accomplish  I  know  not;  but  I  perceive  this, 
that  if  Caesar  means  well,  he  will  not  be  overthrown."  ^ 

The  object  of  the  Senate  was  either  to  ruin  Caesar,  if  he 
complied  with  this  order,  or  to  put  him  in  the  wrong  by  pro- 
voking him  to  disobedience.  The  scheme  was  ingenious; 
but  if  the  Senate  could  mine,  Caesar  could  countermine. 
Caelius  said  that  Curio  was  violent  against  him:  and  so  Curio 
'» had  been.     Curio  was  a  young  man  of  high  birth,  dissolute, 


308  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  50 

extravagant,  and  clever.  His  father,  who  had  been  consul 
five-and-twenty  years  before,  was  a  strong  aristocrat  and  a 
close  friend  of  Cicero's.  The  son  had  taken  the  same  line; 
but,  among  other  loose  companions,  he  had  made  the  ac- 
quaintance, to  his  father's  regret,  of  Mark  Antony,  and 
though  they  had  hitherto  been  of  opposite  politics,  the  in- 
timacy had  continued.  The  Senate's  influence  had  made 
Curio  tribune  for  the  year  49.  Antony  had  been  chosen 
tribune  also.  To  the  astonishment  of  everybody  but 
Cicero,  it  appeared  that  these  two,  who  were  expected  to 
neutralize  each  other,  were  about  to  work  together,  and  to 
veto  every  resolution  which  seemed  an  unfair  return  for 
Caesar's  services.  Scandal  said  that  young  Curio  was  in 
money  difficulties,  and  that  Caesar  had  paid  his  debts  for 
him.  It  was  perhaps  a  lie  invented  by  political  malignity; 
but  if  Curio  was  purchasable,  Caesar  would  not  have  hesi- 
tated to  buy  him.  His  habit  was  to  take  facts  as  they 
were,  and  when  satisfied  that  his  object  was  just,  to  go  the 
readiest  way  to  it. 

The  desertion  of  their  own  tribune  was  a  serious  blow  to 
the  Senate.  Caelius,  who  was  to  be  praetor,  was  inclining 
to  think  that  Caesar  would  win,  and  therefore  might  take 
his  side  also.  The  constitutional  opposition  would  then  be 
extremely  strong;  and  even  Pompey,  fiercely  as  he  had 
spoken,  doubted  what  to  do.  The  question  was  raised  in 
the  Senate,  whether  the  tribunes'  vetoes  were  to  be  re- 
garded. Marcellus,  who  had  flogged  the  citizen  of  Como, 
voted  for  defying  them,  but  the  rest  were  timid.  Pompey 
did  not  know  his  own  mind.®  Caelius's  account  of  his  own 
feelings  in  the  matter  represented  probably  those  of  many 
besides  himself. 

"  In  civil  quarrels,"  he  wrote  to  Cicero,  "  we  ought  to 
go  with  the  most  honest  party,  as  long  as  the  contest  lies 
within  constitutional  limits.  When  it  is  an  affair  of  camps 
and  battles,  we  must  go  with  the  strongest.  Pompey  will 
have  the  Senate  and  the  men  of  consideration  with  him. 
All  the  discontented  will  go  with  Caesar.  I  must  calculate 
the  forces  on  both  sides,  before  I  decide  on  my  own  part."  ^ 


B.  c.  50]  DIVISIONS    IN  THE    SENATE  309 

When  the  question  next  came  on  in  the  Senate,  Curio, 
being  of  course  instructed  in  Caesar's  wishes,  professed  to 
share  the  anxiety  lest  there  should  be  a  military  Dictator- 
ship; but  he  said  that  the  danger  was  as  great  from  Pom- 
pey  as  from  Caesar.  He  did  not  object  to  the  recall  of  ] 
Caesar,  but  Pompey,  he  thought,  should  resign  his  province  i 
also,  and  the  constitution  would  then  be  out  of  peril. 

Pompey  professed  to  be  willing,  if  the  Senate  desired  it; 
but  he  insisted  that  Caesar  must  take  the  first  step.  Cu- 
rio's proposal  was  so  fair,  that  it  gained  favour  both  in 
Forum  and  Senate.  The  populace,  who  hated  Pompey, 
threw  flowers  upon  the  tribune  as  he  passed.  Marcellus, 
the  consul,  a  few  days  later,  put  the  question  in  the  Sen- 
ate: Was  Caesar  to  be  recalled?  A  majority  answered 
Yes.  Was  Pompey  to  be  deprived  of  his  province?  The 
same  majority  said  No.  Curio  then  proposed  that  both 
Pompey  and  Caesar  should  dismiss  their  armies.  Out  of 
three  hundred  and  ninety-two  senators  present,  three  hun- 
dred and  seventy  agreed.  Marcellus  told  them  bitterly 
that  they  had  voted  themselves  Caesar's  slaves.  But  they 
were  not  all  insane  with  envy  and  hatred,  and  in  the 
midst  of  their  terrors  they  retained  some  prudence,  per- 
haps some  conscience  and  sense  of  justice.  By  this  time, 
however,  the  messengers  who  had  been  sent  to  communi- 
cate the  Senate's  views  to  Caesar  had  returned.  They 
brought  no  positive  answer  for  himself;  but  they  reported 
that  Caesar's  troops  were  worn  out  and  discontented,  and 
certainly  would  refuse  to  support  him  in  any  violent  action.  ' 
How  false  their  account  of  the  army  was  the  Senate  had 
soon  reason  to  know,  but  it  was  true  that  one,  and  he  the 
most  trusted  ofificer  that  Caesar  had,  Labienus,  who  had 
fought  through  so  many  battles  with  him  in  the  Forum  as 
well  as  in  the  field,  whose  high  talents  and  character  his 
Commentaries  could  never  praise  sufficiently — it  was  true 
that  Labienus  had  listened  to  the  offers  made  him.  La- 
bienus had  made  a  vast  fortune  in  the  war.  He  perhaps 
thought,  as  other  distinguished  officers  have  done,  that  he 
was  the  person  that  had  won  the  victories;  that  without 


3IO  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  50 

him  Caesar,  who  was  being  so  much  praised  and  glorified, 
would  have  been  nothing;  and  that  he  at  least  was  en- 
titled to  an  equal  share  of  the  honours  and  rewards  that 
might  be  coming;  while  if  Caesar  was  to  be  disgraced,  he 
might  have  the  whole  recompense  for  himself.  Caesar 
heard  of  these  overtures;  but  he  had  refused  to  believe  that 
Labienus  could  be  untrue  to  him.  He  showed  his  con- 
fidence, and  he  showed  at  the  same  time  the  integrity  of 
his  own  intentions,  by  appointing  the  officer  who  was  sus- 
pected of  betraying  him  Lieutenant-general  of  the  Cisal- 
pine Province.  None  the  less  it  was  true  that  Labienus 
had  been  won  over.  Labienus  had  undertaken  for  his 
comrades;  and  the  belief  that  Caesar  could  not  depend  on 
his  troops  renewed  Pompey's  courage  and  gave  heart  to 
the  faction  which  wished  to  precipitate  extremities.  The 
aspect  of  things  was  now  altered.  What  before  seemed 
rash  and  dangerous  might  be  safely  ventured.  Caesar  had 
himself  followed  the  messengers  to  Ravenna.  To  raise 
the  passions  of  men  to  the  desired  heat,  a  report  was  spread 
that  he  had  brought  his  troops  across  and  was  marching 
on  Rome.  Curio  hastened  oflf  to  him,  to  bring  back  un- 
der his  own  hand  a  distinct  declaration  of  his  views. 

It  was  at  this  crisis,  in  the  middle  of  the  winter  50-49,  that 
Cicero  returned  to  Rome.  He  had  held  his  government 
but  for  two  years,  and  instead  of  escaping  the  catastrophe, 
he  found  himself  plunged  into  the  heart  of  it.  He  had  man- 
aged his  province  well.  No  one  ever  suspected  Cicero  of 
being  corrupt  or  unjust.  He  had  gained  some  respectable 
successes  in  putting  down  the  Cilician  banditti.  He  had 
been  named  Imperator  by  his  soldiers  in  the  field  after  an 
action  in  which  he  had  commanded ;  he  had  been  flattering 
himself  with  the  prospect  of  a  triumph,  and  had  laid  up 
money  to  meet  the  cost  of  it.  The  quarrel  between  the 
two  great  men  whom  he  had  so  long  feared  and  flattered, 
and  the  necessity  which  might  be  thrown  on  him  of  de- 
claring publicly  on  one  side  or  the  other,  agitated  him  ter- 
ribly. In  October,  as  he  was  on  his  way  home,  he  ex- 
pressed his  anxieties  with  his  usual  frankness  to  Atticus, 


B.  c.  50]  CICERO'S  DIFFICULTIES  3II 

"  Consider  the  problem  for  me,"  he  said,  "  as  it  affects 
myself:  you  advised  me  to  keep  on  terms  both  with  Pom- 
pey  and  Caesar.  You  bade  me  adhere  to  one  because  he 
had  been  good  to  me,  and  to  the  other  because  he  was 
strong.  I  have  done  so.  I  so  ordered  matters  that  no 
one  could  be  dearer  to  either  of  them  than  I  was.  I  re- 
flected thus:  while  I  stand  by  Pompey,  I  cannot  hurt  the 
Commonwealth;  if  I  agree  with  Caesar,  I  need  not  quarrel 
with  Pompey;  so  closely  they  appeared  to  be  connected. 
But  now  they  are  at  a  sharp  issue.  Each  regards  me  as  his 
friend,  unless  Caesar  dissembles;  while  Pompey  is  right  in 
thinking,  that  what  he  proposes  I  shall  approve.  I  heard 
from  both  at  the  time  at  which  I  heard  from  you.  Their 
letters  were  most  polite.  What  am  I  to  do?  I  don't  mean 
in  extremities.  If  it  comes  to  fighting,  it  will  be  better  to 
be  defeated  with  one  than  to  conquer  with  the  other.  But 
when  I  arrive  at  Rome,  I  shall  be  required  to  say  if  Caesar 
is  to  be  proposed  for  the  consulship  in  his  absence,  or  if  he 
is  to  dismiss  his  army.  What  must  I  answer?  Wait  till  I 
have  consulted  Atticus?  That  will  not  do.  Shall  I  go 
against  Caesar?  Where  are  Pompey 's  resources?  I  my- 
self took  Caesar's  part  about  it.  He  spoke  to  me  on  the 
subject  at  Ravenna.  I  recommended  his  request  to  the 
tribunes  as  a  reasonable  one.  Pompey  talked  with  me  also 
to  the  same  purpose.  Am  I  to  change  my  mind?  I  am 
ashamed  to  oppose  him  now.  Will  you  have  a  fool's  opin- 
ion? I  will  apply  for  a  triumph,  and  so  I  shall  have  an  ex- 
cuse for  not  entering  the  city.  You  will  laugh.  But  oh, 
I  wish  I  had  remained  in  my  province.  Could  I  but  have 
guessed  what  was  impending!  Think  for  me.  How  shall 
I  avoid  displeasing  Caesar?  He  writes  most  kindly  about 
a  '  Thanksgiving  '  for  my  success."  ^ 

Caesar  had  touched  the  right  point  in  congratulating 
Cicero  on  his  military  exploits.  His  friends  in  the  Senate 
had  been  less  delicate.  Bibulus  had  been  thanked  for  hid- 
ing from  the  Parthians.  When  Cicero  had  hinted  his  ex- 
pectations, the  Senate  had  passed  to  the  order  of  the  day. 

''  Cato,"  he  wrote,  "  treats  me  scurvily.     He  gives  me 


312  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  50 

praise  for  justice,  clemency,  and  integrity,  which  I  did  not 
want.  What  I  did  want  he  will  not  let  me  have.  Caesar 
promises  me  everything. — Cato  has  given  a  twenty-days' 
thanksgiving  to  Bibulus.  Pardon  me,  if  this  is  more  than 
I  can  bear.  But  I  am  relieved  from  my  worst  fear.  The 
Parthians  have  left  Bibulus  half  alive."  * 

The  shame  wore  off  as  Cicero  drew  near  to  Rome.  He 
blamed  the  tribunes  for  insisting  on  what  he  had  himself 
declared  to  be  just.  "  Any  way,"  he  said,  "  I  stick  to  Pom- 
pey.  When  they  say  to  me,  Marcus  Tullius,  what  do  you 
think?  I  shall  answer,  I  go  with  Pompey;  but  privately  I 
shall  advise  Pompey  to  come  to  terms.  We  have  to  do 
with  a  man  full  of  audacity  and  completely  prepared. 
Every  felon,  every  citizen  who  is  in  disgrace  or  ought  to 
be  in  disgrace,  almost  all  the  young,  the  city  mob,  the 
tribunes,  debtors,  who  are  more  numerous  than  I  could 
have  believed,  all  these  are  with  Caesar.  He  wants  noth- 
ing but  a  good  cause,  and  war  is  always  uncertain."  ^^ 

Pompey  had  been  unwell  at  the  beginning  of  December, 
and  had  gone  for  a  few  days  into  the  country.  Cicero 
met  him  on  the  loth.  "  We  were  two  hours  together," 
he  said.  "  Pompey  was  delighted  at  my  arrival.  He 
spoke  of  my  triumph,  and  promised  to  do  his  part.  He 
advised  me  to  keep  away  from  the  Senate,  till  it  was  ar- 
ranged, lest  I  should  offend  the  tribunes.  He  spoke  of 
war  as  certain.  Not  a  word  did  he  utter  pointing  to  a 
chance  of  compromise. — My  comfort  is  that  Caesar,  to 
whom  even  his  enemies  had  allowed  a  second  consulship, 
and  to  whom  fortune  had  given  so  much  power,  will  not 
be  so  mad  as  to  throw  all  this  away."  ^^  Cicero  had  soon 
to  learn  that  the  second  consulship  was  not  so  certain. 
On  the  29th  he  had  another  long  conversation  with 
Pompey. 

"  Is  there  hope  of  peace?  "  he  wrote,  in  reporting  what 
had  passed.  "  So  far  as  I  can  gather  from  his  very  full  ex- 
pressions to  me,  he  does  not  desire  it.  For  he  thinks  thus: 
If  Caesar  be  made  consul,  even  after  he  has  parted  from  his 
army,  the  constitution  will  be  at  an  end.     He  thinks  also 


B.  c.  50-49]  DEBATE  IN  THE  SENATE  313 

that  when  Caesar  hears  of  the  preparations  against  him,  he 
will  drop  the  consulship  for  this  year,  to  keep  his  province 
and  his  troops.  Should  he  be  so  insane  as  to  try  extremi- 
ties, Pompey  holds  him  in  utter  contempt.  I  thought, 
when  he  was  speaking,  of  the  uncertainties  of  war;  but  I 
was  relieved  to  hear  a  man  of  courage  and  experience  talk 
like  a  statesman  of  the  dangers  of  an  insincere  settlement. 
Not  only  he  does  not  seek  for  peace,  but  he  seems  to  fear 
it.  My  own  vexation  is,  that  I  must  pay  Caesar  my  debt, 
and  spend  thus  what  I  had  set  apart  for  my  triumph.  It 
is  indecent  to  owe  money  to  a  political  antagonist."  " 

Events  were  hurrying  on.  Cicero  entered  Rome  the 
first  week  in  January,  to  find  that  the  Senate  had  begun 
work  in  earnest.  Curio  had  returned  from  Ravenna  with 
a  letter  from  Caesar.  He  had  offered  three  alternatives. 
First,  that  the  agreement  already  made  might  stand,  and 
that  he  might  be  nominated,  in  his  absence,  for  the  consul- 
ship; or  that  when  he  left  his  army,  Pompey  should  disband 
his  Italian  legions;  or,  lastly,  that  he  should  hand  over 
Transalpine  Gaul  to  his  successor  with  eight  of  his  ten  le- 
gions, himself  keeping  the  north  of  Italy  and  Illyria  with 
two,  until  his  election.  It  was  the  ist  of  January.  The 
new  consuls,  Lentulus  and  Caius  Marcellus,  with  the  other 
magistrates,  had  entered  on  their  offices,  and  were  in  their 
places  in  the  Senate.  Pompey  was  present,  and  the  letter 
was  introduced.  The  consuls  objected  to  its  being  read, 
but  they  were  overruled  by  the  remonstrances  of  the  trib- 
unes. The  reading  over,  the  consuls  forbade  a  debate 
upon  it,  and  moved  that  the  condition  of  the  Common- 
wealth should  be  taken  into  consideration.  Lentulus,  the 
more  impassioned  of  them,  said  that  if  the  Senate  would  be 
firm,  he  would  do  his  duty;  if  they  hesitated  and  tried  con- 
ciliation, he  should  take  care  of  himself,  and  go  over  to 
Caesar's  side.  Metellus  Scipio,  Pompey's  father-in-law, 
spoke  to  the  same  purpose.  Pompey,  he  said,  was  ready 
to  support  the  constitution,  if  the  Senate  were  resolute. 
If  they  wavered,  they  would  look  in  vain  for  future  help 
from  him.     Marcus  Marcellus,  the  consul  of  the  preceding 


SH  JULIUS  CyESAR  [B.C.  49 

year,  less  wild  than  he  had  been  when  he  flogged  the  Como 
citizen,  advised  delay,  at  least  till  Pompey  was  better  pre- 
pared. Calidius,  another  senator,  moved  that  Pompey 
should  go  to  his  province.  Caesar's  resentment  at  the 
detention  of  the  two  legions  from  the  Parthian  war, 
he  thought,  was  natural  and  justifiable.  Marcus  Rufus 
agreed  with  Calidius.  But  moderation  was  borne 
down  by  the  violence  of  Lentulus;  and  the  Senate,  in  spite 
of  themselves,^^  voted,  at  Scipio's  dictation,  that  Caesar 
must  dismiss  his  army  before  a  day  which  was  to  be  fixed, 
or,  in  default,  would  be  declared  an  enemy  to  the  State. 
Two  tribunes,  Mark  Antony  and  Cassius  Longinus,  inter- 
posed. The  tribunes'  veto  was  as  old  as  their  institution. 
It  had  been  left  standing  even  by  Sylla.  But  the  aristoc- 
racy were  declaring  war  against  the  people.  They  knew 
that  the  veto  was  coming,  and  they  had  resolved  to  disre- 
gard it.  The  more  passionate  the  speakers,  the  more  they 
were  cheered  by  Caesar's  enemies.  The  sitting  ended  in 
the  evening  without  a  final  conclusion;  but  at  a  meeting 
afterwards,  at  his  house,  Pompey  quieted  alarms  by  as- 
suring the  senators  that  there  was  nothing  to  fear. 
Caesar's  army  he  knew  to  be  disaffected.  He  introduced 
the  officers  of  the  two  legions  that  he  had  taken  from 
Caesar,  who  vouched  for  their  fidelity  to  the  constitution. 
Some  of  Pompey's  veterans  were  present,  called  up  from 
their  farms;  they  were  enthusiastic  for  their  old  com- 
mander. Piso,  Caesar's  father-in-law,  and  Roscius,  a  prae- 
tor, begged  for  a  week's  delay,  that  they  might  go  to 
Caesar,  and  explain  the  Senate's  pleasure.  Others  pro- 
posed to  send  a  deputation  to  soften  the  harshness  of  his 
removal.  But  Lentulus,  backed  by  Cato,  would  listen  to 
nothing.  Cato  detested  Caesar  as  the  representative  of 
everything  which  he  most  abhorred.  Lentulus,  bankrupt 
and  loaded  with  debts,  was  looking  for  provinces  to  ruin, 
and  allied  sovereigns  to  lay  presents  at  his  feet.  He 
boasted  that  he  would  be  a  second  Sylla.^*  When  the 
Senate  met  again  in  their  places,  the  tribunes'  veto  was  dis- 
allowed.    They   ordered   a   general   levy   through   Italy, 


B.  c.  49]  WAVERING  OF   PUBLIC  OPINION  315 

The  consuls  gave  Pompey  the  command-in-chief,  with  the 
keys  of  the  treasury.  The  Senate  redistributed  the  prov- 
inces; giving  Syria  to  Scipio,  and  in  Caesar's  place  appoint- 
ing Domitius  Ahenobarbus,  the  most  inveterate  and  en- 
venomed of  his  enemies.  Their  authority  over  the  prov- 
inces had  been  taken  from  them  by  law,  but  law  was  set 
aside.  Finally,  they  voted  the  State  in  danger,  suspended 
the  constitution,  and  gave  the  consuls  absolute  power. 

The  final  votes  were  taken  on  the  7th  of  January.  A 
single  week  had  gufficed  for  a  discussion*  of  the  resolutions 
on  which  the  fate  of  Rome  depended.  The  Senate  pre- 
tended to  be  defending  the  constitution.  They  had  them- 
selves destroyed  the  constitution,  and  established  on  the 
ruins  of  it  a  senatorial  oligarchy.  The  tribunes  fled  at  once 
to  Caesar.  Pompey  left  the  city  for  Campania,  to  join  his 
two  legions  and  superintend  the  levies. 

The  unanimity  which  had  appeared  in  the  Senate's  final 
determination  was  on  the  surface  only.  Cicero,  though 
present  in  Rome,  had  taken  no  part,  and  looked  on  in  de- 
spair. The  *'  good  "  were  shocked  at  Pompey's  precipi- 
tation. They  saw  that  a  civil  war  could  end  only  in  a  des- 
potism.^^ ''  I  have  not  met  one  man,"  Cicero  said,  "  who 
does  not  think  it  would  be  better  to  make  concessions  to 
Caesar  than  to  fight  him. — Why  fight  now?  Things  are 
no  worse  than  when  we  gave  him  his  additional  five  years, 
or  agreed  to  let  him  be  chosen  consul  in  his  absence.  You 
wish  for  my  opinion.  I  think  we  ought  to  use  every  means 
to  escape  war.  But  I  must  say  what  Pompey  says.  I  can- 
not differ  from  Pompey."  ^® 

A  day  later,  before  the  final  vote  had  been  taken,  he 
thought  still  that  the  Senate  was  willing  to  let  Caesar  keep 
his  province,  if  he  would  dissolve  his  army.  The  moneyed 
interests,  the  peasant  landholders,  were  all  on  Caesar's 
side;  they  cared  not  even  if  monarchy  came  so  that  they 
might  have  peace.  "  We  could  have  resisted  Caesar  easily 
when  he  was  weak,"  he  wrote.  "  Now  he  has  eleven  le- 
gions and  as  many  cavalry  as  he  chooses  with  him,  the 
Cisalpine  provincials,  the  Roman  populace,  the  tribunes, 


3l6  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  49 

and  the  hosts  of  dissolute  young  men.  Yet  we  are  to  fight 
with  him,  or  take  account  of  him  unconstitutionally. 
Fight,  you  say,  rather  than  be  a  slave.  Fight  for  what? 
To  be  proscribed,  if  you  are  beaten;  to  be  a  slave  still,  if 
you  win.  What  will  you  do  then?  you  ask.  As  the  sheep 
follows  the  flock  and  the  ox  the  herd,  so  will  I  follow  the 
*  good,'  or  those  who  are  called  good,  but  I  see  plainly 
what  will  come  out  of  this  sick  state  of  ours.  No  one 
knows  what  the  fate  of  war  may  be.  But  if  the  '  good  ' 
are  beaten,  this  much  is  certain,  that  Caesar  will  be  as 
bloody  as  Cinna,  and  as  greedy  of  other  men's  properties 
as  Sylla."  " 

Once  more,  and  still  in  the  midst  of  uncertainty: 
"  The  position  is  this:  We  must  either  let  Caesar  stand 
for  the  consulship,  he  keeping  his  army  with  the  Senate's 
consent,  or  supported  by  the  tribunes;  or  we  must  persuade 
him  to  resign  his  province  and  his  army,  and  so  to  be  con- 
sul; or  if  he  refuses,  the  elections  can  be  held  without  him, 
he  keeping  his  province;  or  if  he  forbids  the  election 
through  the  tribunes,  we  can  hang  on  and  come  to  an  In- 
terrex;  or,  lastly,  if  he  brings  his  army  on  us,  we  can  fight. 
Should  this  be  his  choice,  he  will  either  begin  at  once,  be- 
fore we  are  ready,  or  he  will  wait  till  his  election,  when  his 
friends  will  put  in  his  name  and  it  will  not  be  received. 
His  plea  may  then  be  the  ill-treatment  of  himself,  or  it  may 
be  complicated  further  should  a  tribune  interpose  and  be 
deprived  of  office,  and  so  take  refuge  with  him.  .  .  You 
will  say,  persuade  Caesar,  then,  to  give  up  his  army,  and 
be  consul.  Surely,  if  he  will  agree,  no  objection  can  be 
raised;  and  if  he  is  not  allowed  to  stand  while  he  keeps  his 
army,  1  wonder  that  he  does  not  let  it  go.  But  a  certain 
person  (Pompey)  thinks  that  nothing  is  so  much  to  be 
feared  as  that  Caesar  should  be  consul.  Better  thus,  you 
will  say,  than  with  an  army.  No  doubt.  But  a  certain  per- 
son holds  that  his  consulship  would  be  an  irremediable  mis- 
fortune. We  must  yield  if  Caesar  will  have  it  so.  He 
will  be  consul  again,  the  same  man  that  he  was  before; 
then,  weak  as  he  was,  he  proved  stronger  than  the  whole 


B.C.  49]  WAVERING   OF   PUBLIC   OPINION  317 

of  US.  What,  think  you,  will  he  be  now?  Pompey,  for 
one  thing,  will  surely  be  sent  to  Spain.  Miserable  every 
way;  and  the  worst  is,  that  Caesar  cannot  be  refused,  and 
by  consenting  will  be  taken  into  supreme  favour  by  all  the 
*  good.'  They  say,  however,  that  he  cannot  be  brought 
to  this.  Well,  then,  which  is  the  worst  of  the  remaining 
alternatives?  Submit  to  what  Pompey  calls  an  impudent 
demand?  Caesar  has  held  his  province  for  ten  years.  The 
Senate  did  not  give  it  him.  He  took  it  himself  by  faction 
and  violence.  Suppose  he  had  it  lawfully,  the  time  is  up. 
His  successor  is  named.  He  disobeys.  He  says  that  he 
ought  to  be  considered.  Let  him  consider  us.  Will  he 
keep  his  army  beyond  the  time  for  which  the  people  gave 
it  to  him,  in  despite  of  the  Senate?  We  must  fight  him 
then,  and,  as  Pompey  says,  we  shall  conquer  or  die  free 
men.  If  fight  we  must,  time  will  show  when  or  how. 
But  if  you  have  any  advice  to  give,  let  me  know  it,  for  I 
am  tormented  day  and  night."  ^® 

These  letters  give  a  vivid  picture  of  the  uncertainties 
which  distracted  public  opinion  during  the  fatal  first  week 
of  January.  Caesar,  it  seems,  might  possibly  have  been 
consul  had  he  been  willing  to  retire  at  once  into  the  con- 
dition of  a  private  citizen,  even  though  Pompey  was  still 
undisarmed.  Whether  in  that  position  he  would  have 
lived  to  see  the  election-day  is  another  question.  Cicero 
himself,  it  will  be  seen,  had  been  reflecting  already  that 
there  were  means  less  perilous  than  civil  war  by  which 
dangerous  persons  might  be  got  rid  of.  And  there  were 
weak  points  in  his  arguments  which  his  impatience  passed 
over.  Caesar  held  a  positive  engagement  about  his  con- 
sulship, which  the  people  had  ratified.  Of  the  ten  years 
which  the  people  had  allowed  him,  one  was  unexpired,  . 
and  the  Senate  had  no  power  to  vote  his  recall  without  the 
tribunes'  and  the  people's  consent.  He  might  well  hesi- 
tate to  put  himself  in  the  power  of  a  faction  so  little  scru- 
pulous. It  is  evident,  however,  that  Pompey  and  the  two 
consuls  were  afraid  that  if  such  overtures  were  made  to 
him  by  a  deputation  from  the  Senate,  he  might  perhaps 


3l8  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  49 

agree  to  them;  and  by  their  rapid  and  violent  vote  they 
put  an  end  to  the  possibility  of  an  arrangement.  Caesar, 
for  no  other  crime  than  that  as  a  brilHant  democratic  gen- 
eral he  was  supposed  dangerous  to  the  oligarchy,  had  been 
recalled  from  his  command  in  the  face  of  the  prohibition 
of  the  tribunes,  and  was  declared  an  enemy  of  his  coun- 
try unless  he  instantly  submitted.  After  the  experience 
of  Marius  and  Sylla,  the  Senate  could  have  paid  no  higher 
compliment  to  Caesar's  character  than  in  believing  that  he 
would  hesitate  over  his  answer. 

Notes 

'  Page  302.  "  Caelius  ad  Ciceronem,"  Ad  Fam.  viii.  10. 

'  Page  302.  Suetonitis,  De  VitS.  Julii  Csesaris. 

3  Page  302.  "  Marcellus  foede  de  Comensi.  Etsi  ille  magistratum  non 
gesserat,  erat  tamen  Transpadanus.  Ita  mihi  videtur  non  minus 
stomachi  nostro  ac  Caesari  fecisse." — To  Atticus,  v.  11. 

*Page  305.  "  Quod  ad  Caesarem  crebri  et  non  belli  de  eo  rumores. 
Sed  susurratores  dumtaxat  veniunt.  .  .  Neque  adhuc  certi  quidquam 
est,  neque  hsec  incerta  tamen  vulgo  jactantur,  Sed  inter  paucos,  quos 
tu  nosti,  palam  secreto  narrantur.  At  Domitius  cum  manus  ad  os 
apposuit! " — Caelius  to  Cicero.     Ad  Fam.,  viii.  i. 

5  Page  307.  lb.,  viii.  8. 

*  Page  308.  lb.,  viii.  13. 

'Page  308.  lb,,  viii.  14. 

8  Page  311.  To  Atticus,  vii.  i,  abridged. 

5 Page  312.  lb.,  vii.  2. 

^°  Page  312.  lb.,  vii.  3. 

"  Page  312.  lb.,  vii.  4. 

"  Page  313.  "  Mihi  autem  illud  molestissimum  est,  quod  solvendi  sunt 
nummi  Caesari,  et  instrumentum  triumphi  eo  conferendum.  Est 
&fwp4>ov  duTiiroXiTevofiivov  xP^^^ff'^i-XiTijv  esse." — lb.,  viii.  8. 

13  Page  314.  "  Inviti  et  coacti  "  is  Caesar's  expression.  He  wished, 
perhaps,  to  soften  the  Senate's  action.     (De  Bello  Civili,  1,  2). 

^*Page  314.  "  Seque  alterum  fore  Sullam  inter  suos  gloriatar." — lb., 

1.4. 
15  Page  315.  "  Tum  certe  tyrannus  existet," — To  Atticus,  vii.  5. 
"Page  315.  lb.,  vii.  6. 
"  Page  316.  lb.,  vii.  7,  abridged. 
"Page  317.  lb.,  vii.  9,  abridged. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

C^SAR,  when  the  report  of  the  Senate's  action 
reached  him,  addressed  his  soldiers.  He  had  but 
one  legion  with  him,  the  13th.  But  one  legion 
would  represent  the  rest.  He  told  them  what  the  Senate 
had  done,  and  why  they  had  done  it.  "  For  nine  years  he 
and  his  army  had  served  their  country  loyally  and  with 
some  success.  They  had  driven  the  Germans  over  the 
Rhine;  they  had  made  Gaul  a  Roman  province;  and  the 
Senate  for  answer  had  broken  the  constitution,  and  had 
set  aside  the  tribunes  because  they  spoke  in  his  defence. 
They  had  voted  the  State  in  danger,  and  had  called  Italy 
to  arms  when  no  single  act  had  been  done  by  himself  to 
justify  them."  The  soldiers  whom  Pompey  supposed  dis- 
affected declared  with  enthusiasm  that  they  would  support 
their  commander  and  the  tribunes.  They  offered  to  serve 
without  pay.  Officers  and  men  volunteered  contributions 
for  the  expenses  of  the  war.  In  all  the  army  one  officer 
alone  proved  false.  Labienus  kept  his  word  to  Pompey, 
and  stole  away  to  Capua.  He  left  his  effects  behind,  and 
Caesar  sent  them  after  him  untouched. 

Finding  that  all  the  rest  could  be  depended  on,  he  sent 
back  over  the  Alps  for  two  more  legions  to  follow  him. 
He  crossed  the  little  river  Rubicon,  which  bounded  his 
province,  and  advanced  to  Rimini,  where  he  met  the  trib- 
unes, Antony,  Cassius  Longinus,  and  Curio,  who  were 
coming  to  him  from  Rome.^  At  Rimini  the  troops  were 
again  assembled.  Curio  told  them  what  had  passed. 
Caesar  added  a  few  more  words.  The  legionaries,  officers 
and  privates,  were  perfectly  satisfied;  and  Caesar,  who,  a 
resolution  once  taken,  struck  as  swiftly  as  his  own  eagles, 
was  preparing  to  go  forward.  He  had  but  5000  men  with 
him,  but  he  understood  the  state  of  Italy,  and  knew  that 

319 


320  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  49 

he  had  nothing  to  fear.  At  this  moment  Lucius  Csesar,  a 
distant  kinsman,  and  the  praetor  Roscius  arrived,  as  they 
said,  with  a  private  message  from  Pompey.  The  message 
was  nothing.  The  object  was  no  more  than  to  gain  time. 
But  Caesar  had  no  wish  for  war,  and  would  not  throw  away 
a  chance  of  avoiding  it.  He  bade  his  kinsman  tell  Pompey 
that  it  was  for  him  to  compose  the  difficulties  which  had 
arisen  without  a  collision.  He  had  been  himself  misrep- 
resented to  his  countrymen.  He  had  been  recalled  from 
his  command  before  his  time;  the  promise  given  to  him 
about  his  consulship  had  been  broken.  He  had  endured 
these  injuries.  He  had  proposed  to  the  Senate  that  the 
forces  on  both  sides  should  be  disbanded.  The  Senate 
had  refused.  A  levy  had  been  ordered  through  Italy,  and 
the  legions  designed  for  Parthia  had  been  retained.  Such 
an  attitude  could  have  but  one  meaning.  Yet  he  was 
still  ready  to  make  peace.  Let  Pompey  depart  to  Spain. 
His  own  troops  should  then  be  dismissed.  The  elections 
could  be  held  freely,  and  Senate  and  people  would  be  re- 
stored to  their  joint  authority.  If  this  was  not  enough, 
they  two  might  meet  and  relieve  each  other's  alarms  and 
suspicions  in  a  personal  interview. 

With  this  answer  the  envoys  went,  and  Caesar  paused  at 
Rimini.  Meanwhile  the  report  reached  Rome  that  Caesar 
had  crossed  the  Rubicon.  The  aristocracy  had  nursed  the 
pleasant  belief  that  his  heart  would  fail  him,  or  that  his 
army  would  desert  him.  His  heart  had  not  failed,  his  army 
had  not  deserted;  and,  in  their  terror,  they  saw  him  already 
in  their  midst  like  an  avenging  Marius.  He  was  coming. 
His  horse  had  been  seen  on  the  Apennines.  Flight,  in- 
stant flight,  was  the  only  safety.  Up  they  rose,  consuls, 
praetors,  senators,  leaving  wives  and  children  and  property  - 
to  their  fate,  not  halting  even  to  take  the  money  out  of  the 
treasury,  but  contenting  themselves  with  leaving  it  locked. 
On  foot,  on  horseback,  in  litters,  in  carriages,  they  fled  for 
their  lives  to  find  safety  under  Pompey's  wing  in  Capua. 
In  this  forlorn  company  went  Cicero,  filled  with  contempt 
for  what  was  round  him. 


B.  c.  49]  CICERO   ON   THE   SITUATION  32 1 

"  You  ask  what  Pompey  means  to  do,"  he  wrote  to  At- 
ticus.  ''  I  do  not  think  he  knows  himself.  Certainly  none 
of  us  know.  It  is  all  panic  and  blunder.  We  are  uncer- 
tain whether  he  will  make  a  stand,  or  leave  Italy.  If  he 
stays,  I  fear  his  army  is  too  unreliable.  If  not,  where  will 
he  go,  and  how  and  what  are  his  plans?  Like  you,  I  am 
afraid  that  Caesar  will  be  a  Phalaris,  and  that  we  may  ex- 
pect the  very  worst.  The  flight  of  the  Senate,  the  de- 
parture of  the  magistrates,  the  closing  of  the  treasury,  will 
not  stop  him. — I  am  broken-hearted;  so  ill-advisedly,  so 
against  all  my  counsels,  the  whole  business  has  been  con- 
ducted. Shall  I  turn  my  coat,  and  join  the  victors?  I  am 
ashamed.  Duty  forbids  me;  but  I  am  miserable  at  the 
thought  of  my  children."  ^ 

A  gleam  of  hope  came  with  the  arrival  of  Labienus,  but 
it  soon  clouded.  "  Labienus  is  a  hero,"  Cicero  said. 
''  Never  was  act  more  splendid.  If  nothing  else  comes  of 
it,  he  has  at  least  made  Caesar  smart. — We  have  a  civil  war 
on  us,  not  because  we  have  quarrelled  among  ourselves, 
but  through  one  abandoned  citizen.  But  this  citizen  has 
a  strong  army,  and  a  large  party  attached  to  him. — What 
he  will  do  I  cannot  say;  he  cannot  even  pretend  to  do  any- 
thing constitutionally;  but  what  is  to  become  of  us,  with 
a  general  that  cannot  lead? — To  say  nothing  of  ten  years 
of  blundering,  what  could  have  been  worse  than  this  flight 
from  Rome?  His  next  purpose  I  know  not.  I  ask,  and 
can  have  no  answer.  All  is  cowardice  and  confusion.  He 
was  kept  at  home  to  protect  us,  and  protection  there  is  none. 
The  one  hope  is  in  two  legions  invidiously  detained  and 
almost  not  belonging  to  us.  As  to  the  levies,  the  men 
enlist  unwillingly,  and  hate  the  notion  of  war."  ^ 

In  this  condition  of  things  Lucius  Caesar  arrived  with 
the  answer  from  Rimini.  A  council  of  war  was  held  at 
Teano  to  consider  it;  and  the  flames  which  had  burnt  so 
hotly  at  the  beginning  of  the  month  were  found  to  have 
somewhat  cooled.  Cato's  friend,  Favonius,  was  still  de- 
fiant; but  the  rest,  even  Cato  himself,  had  grown  more 
modest.     Pompey,  it  was  plain,  had  no  army,  and  could 

31 


322  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  49 

not  raise  an  army.  Caesar  spoke  fairly.  It  might  be  only 
treachery;  but  the  Senate  had  left  their  families  and  their 
property  in  Rome.  The  public  money  was  in  Rome. 
They  were  willing  to  consent  that  Caesar  should  be  consul, 
since  so  it  must  be.  Unluckily  for  themselves,  they  left 
Pompey  to  draw  up  their  reply.  Pompey  intrusted  the 
duty  to  an  incapable  person  named  Sestius,  and  the  an- 
swer was  ill-written,  awkward,  and  wanting  on  the  only 
point  which  would  have  proved  his  sincerity.  Pompey 
declined  the  proposed  interview.  Caesar  must  evacuate 
Rimini,  and  return  to  his  province;  afterwards,  at  some 
time  unnamed,  Pompey  would  go  to  Spain,  and  other  mat- 
ters should  be  arranged  to  Caesar's  satisfaction.  Caesar 
must  give  securities  that  he  would  abide  by  his  promise  to 
dismiss  his  troops;  and  meanwhile  the  consular  levies 
would  be  continued.* 

To  Cicero  these  terms  seemed  to  mean  a  capitulation 
clumsily  disguised.  Caesar  interpreted  them  differently. 
To  him  it  appeared  that  he  was  required  to  part  with  his 
own  army,  while  Pompey  was  forming  another.  No  time 
was  fixed  for  the  departure  to  Spain.  He  might  be  him- 
self named  consul,  yet  Pompey  might  be  in  Italy  to  the 
end  of  the  year  with  an  army  independent  of  him.  Evi- 
dently there  was  distrust  on  both  sides,  yet  on  Caesar's  part 
a  distrust  not  undeserved.  Pompey  would  not  see  him. 
He  had  admitted  to  Cicero  that  he  desired  a  war  to  pre- 
vent Caesar  from  being  consul,  and  at  this  very  moment 
was  full  of  hopes  and  schemes  for  carrying  it  on  success- 
fully. ''  Pompey  writes,"  reported  Cicero  on  the  28th  of 
January,  '*  that  in  a  few  days  he  will  have  a  force  on  which 
he  can  rely.  He  will  occupy  Picenum,^  and  we  are  then 
to  return  to  Rome.  Labienus  assures  him  that  Caesar  is 
utterly  weak.     Thus  he  is  in  better  spirits."  ® 

A  second  legion  had  by  this  time  arrived  at  Rimini. 
Caesar  considered  that  if  the  Senate  really  desired  peace, 
their  disposition  would  be  quickened  by  further  pressure. 
He  sent  Antony  across  the  mountains  to  Arezzo,  on  the 
straight  road  to  Rome;  and  he  pushed  on  himself  towards 


B.  c.  49]  CiESAR'S  ADVANCE  323 

Ancona,  before  Pompey  had  time  to  throw  himself  in  the 
way.  The  towns  on  the  way  opened  their  gates  to  him. 
The  municipal  magistrates  told  the  commandants  that  they 
could  not  refuse  to  entertain  Caius  Caesar,  who  had  done 
such  great  things  for  the  Republic.  The  officers  fled. 
The  garrisons  joined  Caesar's  legions.  Even  a  colony 
planted  by  Labienus  sent  a  deputation  with  offers  of  serv- 
ice. Steadily  and  swiftly  in  gathering  volume  the  army 
of  the  north  came  on.  At  Capua  all  was  consternation. 
"  The  consuls  are  helpless,"  Cicero  said.  ''  There  has 
been  no  levy.  The  commissioners  do  not  even  try  to  ex- 
cuse their  failure.  With  Caesar  pressing  forward,  and  our 
general  doing  nothing,  men  will  not  give  in  their  names. 
The  will  is  not  wanting,  but  they  are  without  hope.  Pom- 
pey, miserable  and  incredible  though  it  be,  is  prostrate. 
He  has  no  courage,  no  purpose,  no  force,  no  energy.  .  . 
Caius  Cassius  came  on  the  7th  to  Capua,  with  an  order 
from  Pompey  to  the  consuls  to  go  to  Rome  and  bring  away 
the  money  from  the  treasury.  How  are  they  to  go  with- 
out an  escort,  or  how  return?  The  consuls  say  he  must 
go  himself  first  to  Picenum.  But  Picenum  is  lost.  Caesar 
will  soon  be  in  Apulia,  and  Pompey  on  board  ship. 
What  shall  I  do?  I  should  not  doubt  had  there  not  been 
such  shameful  mismanagement,  and  had  I  been  myself  con- 
sulted. Caesar  invites  me  to  peace,  but  his  letter  was  writ- 
ten before  his  advance."  ' 

Desperate  at  the  lethargy  of  their  commander,  the  aris- 
tocracy tried  to  force  him  into  movement  by  acting  on 
their  own  account.  Domitius,  who  had  been  appointed 
Caesar's  successor,  was  most  interested  in  his  defeat.  He 
gathered  a  party  of  young  lords  and  knights  and  a  few 
thousand  men,  and  flung  himself  into  Corfinium,  a  strong 
position  in  the  Apennines,  directly  in  Caesar's  path.  Pom- 
pey had  still  his  two  legions,  and  Domitius  sent  an  express 
to  tell  him  that  Caesar's  force  was  still  small,  and  that  with  a 
slight  effort  he  might  inclose  him  in  the  mountains. 
Meanwhile  Domitius  himself  tried  to  break  the  bridge  over 
the  Pescara.     He  was  too  late.     Caesar  had  by  this  time 


324  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  49 

nearly  30,000  men.  The  Cisalpine  territories  in  mere  en- 
thusiasm had  raised  twenty-two  cohorts  for  him.  He 
reached  the  Pescara  while  the  bridge  was  still  standing. 
He  surrounded  Coriinium  with  the  impregnable  Hues 
which  had  served  him  so  well  in  Gaul,  and  the  messenger 
sent  to  Capua  came  back  with  cold  comfort.  Pompey  had 
simply  ordered  Domitius  to  retreat  from  a  position  which 
he  ought  not  to  have  occupied,  and  to  join  him  in  Apulia. 
It  was  easy  to  say  retreat!  No  retreat  was  possible.  Do- 
mitius and  his  companions  proposed  to  steal  away  in  the 
night.  They  were  discovered.  Their  own  troops  arrested 
them,  and  carried  them  as  prisoners  to  Caesar.  Fortune 
had  placed  in  his  hands  at  the  outset  of  the  campaign  the 
man  who  beyond  others  had  been  the  occasion  of  it.  Do- 
mitius would  have  killed  Caesar  like  a  bandit  if  he  had 
caught  him.  He  probably  expected  a  similar  fate  for  him- 
self. Caesar  received  his  captives  calmly  and  coldly.  He 
told  them  that  they  had  made  an  ungrateful  return  to  him 
for  his  services  to  his  country;  and  then  dismissed  them 
all,  restoring  even  Domitius's  well-filled  military  chest,  and 
too  proud  to  require  a  promise  from  him  that  he  would  ab- 
stain personally  from  further  hostility.  His  army,  such 
as  it  was,  followed  the  general  example,  and  declared  for 
Caesar. 

The  capture  of  Corfinium  and  the  desertion  of  the  gar- 
rison made  an  end  of  hesitation.  Pompey  and  the  consuls 
thought  only  of  instant  flight,  and  hurried  to  Brindisi, 
where  ships  were  waiting  for  them;  and  Caesar,  hoping  that 
the  evident  feeling  of  Italy  would  have  its  effect  with  the 
reasonable  part  of  the  Senate,  sent  Cornelius  Balbus,  who 
was  on  intimate  terms  with  many  of  them,  to  assure  them 
of  his  eagerness  for  peace,  and  to  tell  Cicero  especially  that 
he  would  be  well  contented  to  live  under  Pompey's  rule 
if  he  could  have  a  guaranty  for  his  personal  safety.^ 

Cicero's  trials  had  been  great,  and  were  not  diminishing. 
The  account  given  by  Balbus  was  simply  incredible  to  him. 
If  Caesar  was  really  as  well  disposed  as  Balbus  represented, 
then  the  senatorial  party,  himself  included,  had  acted  like 


B.  c.  49]  PERPLEXITY   OF   CICERO  325 

a  set  of  madmen.  It  might  be  assumed,  therefore,  that 
Caesar  was  as  meanly  ambitious,  as  selfish,  as  revolutionary, 
as  their  fears  had  represented  him,  and  that  his  mildness 
was  merely  affectation.  But  what  then?  Cicero  wished 
for  himself  to  be  on  the  right  side,  but  also  to  be  on  the 
safe  side.  Pompey's  was  the  right  side,  the  side,  that  is, 
which,  for  his  own  sake,  he  would  prefer  to  see  victorious. 
But  was  Pompey's  the  safe  side?  or  rather,  would  it  be  safe 
to  go  against  him?  The  necessity  for  decision  was  drawing 
closer.  If  Pompey  and  the  consuls  went  abroad^  all  loyal 
senators  would  be  expected  to  follow  them,  and  to  stay 
behind  would  be  held  treason.  Italy  was  with  Caesar;  but 
the  East,  with  its  treasures,  its  fleets,  its  millions  of  men, 
this  was  Pompey's,  heart  and  soul.  The  sea  was  Pom- 
pey's. Caesar  might  win  for  the  moment,  but  Pompey 
might  win  in  the  long  run.  The  situation  was  most  per- 
plexing. Before  the  fall  of  Corfinium  Cicero  had  poured 
himself  out  upon  it  to  his  friend.  ''  My  connections,  per- 
sonal and  political,"  he  said,  ''  attach  me  to  Pompey.  If 
I  stay  behind,  I  desert  my  noble  and  admirable  compan- 
ions, and  I  fall  into  the  power  of  a  man  whom  I  know  not 
how  far  I  can  trust.  He  shows  in  many  ways  that  he 
wishes  me  well.  I  saw  the  tempest  impending,  and  I  long 
ago  took  care  to  secure  his  good-will.  But  suppose  him 
to  be  my  friend  indeed,  is  it  becoming  in  a  good  and  val- 
iant citizen,  who  has  held  the  highest  offices  and  done  such 
distinguished  things,  to  be  in  the  power  of  any  man? 
Ought  I  to  expose  myself  to  the  danger,  and  perhaps  dis- 
grace, which  would  lie  before  me,  should  Pompey  recover 
his  position?  This  on  one  side;  but  now  look  at  the  other. 
Pompey  has  shown  neither  conduct  nor  courage,  and  he 
has  acted  throughout  against  my  advice  and  judgment.  I 
pass  over  his  old  errors:  how  he  himself  armed  this  man 
against  the  constitution ;  how  he  supported  his  laws  by  vio- 
lence in  the  face  of  the  auspices;  how  he  gave  him  Further 
Gaul,  married  his  daughter,  supported  Clodius,  helped  me 
back  from  exile  indeed,  but  neglected  me  afterwards;  how 
he  prolonged  Caesar's  command,  and  backed  him  up  in 


326  JULIUS   CESAR  [b.  c.  49 

everything;  how  in  his  third  consulship,  when  he  had  be- 
gun to  defend  the  constitution,  he  yet  moved  the  tribunes  to 
carry  a  resolution  for  taking  Caesar's  name  in  his  absence,  and 
himself  sanctioned  it  by  a  law  of  his  own;  how  he  resisted 
Marcus  Marcellus,  who  would  have  ended  Caesar's  govern- 
ment on  the  1st  of  March.  Let  us  forget  all  this:  but  what 
was  ever  more  disgraceful  than  the  flight  from  Rome? 
What  conditions  would  not  have  been  preferable?  He  will 
restore  the  constitution, you  say, but  when?  by  what  means? 
Is  not  Picenum  lost?  Is  not  the  road  open  to  the  city? 
Is  not  our  money,  public  and  private,  all  the  enemy's? 
There  is  no  cause,  no  rallying  point  for  the  friends  of  the 
constitution.  .  .  The  rabble  are  all  for  Caesar,  and  many 
wish  for  revolution.  .  .  I  saw  from  the  first  that  Pom- 
pey  only  thought  of  flight:  if  I  now  follow  him,  whither  are 
we  to  go?  Caesar  will  seize  my  brother's  property  and 
mine,  ours  perhaps  sooner  than  others',  as  an  assault  on  us 
would  be  popular.  If  I  stay,  I  shall  do  no  more  than  many 
good  men  did  in  Cinna's  time. — Caesar  may  be  my  friend, 
not  certainly,  but  perhaps;  and  he  may  offer  me  a  triumph 
which  it  would  be  dangerous  to  refuse,  and  invidious  with 
the  'good'  to  accept.  Oh,  most  perplexing  position! — 
while  I  write  word  comes  that  Caesar  is  at  Corfinium.  Do- 
mitius  is  inside,  with  a  strong  force  and  eager  to  fight.  I 
cannot  think  Pompey  will  desert  him."  ® 

Pompey  did  desert  Domitius,  as  has  been  seen.  The 
surrender  of  Corfinium,  and  the  circumstances  of  it,  gave 
Cicero  the  excuse  which  he  evidently  desired  to  find  for 
keeping  clear  of  a  vessel  that  appeared  to  him  to  be  going 
straight  to  shipwreck.  He  pleased  himself  with  inventing 
evil  purposes  for  Pompey,  to  justify  his  leaving  him.  He 
thought  it  possible  that  Domitius  and  his  friends  might 
have  been  purposely  left  to  fall  into  Caesar's  hands,  in  the 
hope  that  Caesar  would  kill  them  and  make  himself  un- 
popular. Pompey,  he  was  satisfied,  meant  as  much  to  be 
a  despot  as  Caesar.  Pompey  might  have  defended  Rome, 
if  he  had  pleased;  but  his  purpose  was  to  go  away  and 
raise  a  great  fleet  and  a  great  Asiatic  army,  and  come  back 


B.  c.  49J      CICERO   ADVISES   POMPEY  TO    MAKE   PEACE         327 

and  ruin  Italy,  and  be  a  new  ''  Sylla."  ^^  In  his  distress 
Cicero  wrote  both  to  Caesar  and  to  Pompey,  who  was  now 
at  Brindisi.  To  Caesar  he  said  that,  if  he  wished  for  peace, 
he  might  command  his  services.  He  had  always  consid- 
ered that  Caesar  had  been  wronged  in  the  course  which  had 
been  pursued  toward  him.  Envy  and  ill-nature  had  tried 
to  rob  him  of  the  honours  which  had  been  conferred  on 
him  by  the  Roman  people.  He  protested  that  he  had  him- 
self supported  Caesar's  claims,  and  had  advised  others  to 
do  the  same.  But  he  felt  for  Pompey  also,  he  said,  and 
would  gladly  be  of  service  to  him/^ 

To  Pompey  he  wrote: — 

"  My  advice  was  always  for  peace,  even  on  hard  terms. 
I  wished  you  to  remain  in  Rome.  You  never  hinted  that 
you  thought  of  leaving  Italy.  I  accepted  your  opinion, 
not  for  the  constitution's  sake,  for  I  despaired  of  saving  it. 
The  constitution  is  gone,  and  cannot  be  restored  without 
a  destructive  war;  but  I  wished  to  be  with  you,  and  if  I 
can  join  you  now,  I  will.  I  know  well  that  my  conduct 
has  not  pleased  those  who  desired  to  fight.  I  urged  peace; 
not  because  I  did  not  fear  what  they  feared,  but  because 
I  thought  peace  a  less  evil  than  war.  When  the  war  had 
begun  and  overtures  were  made  to  you,  you  responded  so 
amply  and  so  honourably  that  I  hoped  I  had  prevailed. 
...  I  was  never  more  friendly  with  Caesar  than  they 
were;  nor  were  they  more  true  to  the  State  than  I.  The 
difference  between  us  is  this,  that  while  they  and  I  are 
alike  good  citizens,  I  preferred  an  arrangement,  and  you, 
I  thought,  agreed  with  me.  They  chose  to  fight,  and  as 
their  counsels  have  been  taken,  I  can  but  do  my  duty  as 
a  member  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  as  a  friend  to 
you."  ^^ 

In  this  last  sentence  Cicero  gives  his  clear  opinion  that 
the  aristocracy  had  determined  upon  war,  and  that  for  this 
reason  and  no  other  the  attempted  negotiations  had  failed. 
Caesar,  hoping  that  a  better  feeling  might  arise  after  his  dis- 
missal of  Domitius,  had  waited  a  few  days  at  Corfinium. 
Finding  that  Pompey  had  gone  to  Brindisi,  he  then  fol- 


328  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  49 

lowed,  trusting  to  overtake  him  before  he  could  leave  Italy, 
and  again  by  messengers  pressed  him  earnestly  for  an  in- 
terview. By  desertions,  and  by  the  accession  of  volun- 
teers, Caesar  had  now  six  legions  with  him.  If  Pompey 
escaped,  he  knew  that  the  war  would  be  long  and  danger- 
ous. If  he  could  capture  him,  or  persuade  him  to  an 
agreement,  peace  could  easily  be  preserved.  When  he 
arrived  outside  the  town,  the  consuls  with  half  the  army 
had  already  gone.  Pompey  was  still  in  Brindisi,  with 
12,000  men,  waiting  till  the  transports  could  return  to 
carry  him  after  them.  Pompey  again  refused  to  see 
Caesar,  and,  in  the  absence  of  the  consuls,  declined  further 
discussion.  Caesar  tried  to  blockade  him,  but  for  want  of 
ships  was  unable  to  close  the  harbour.  The  transports 
came  back,  and  Pompey  sailed  for  Durazzo.^^ 

A  few  extracts  and  abridgments  of  letters  will  complete 
the  picture  of  this  most  interesting  time. 

CICERO  TO  ATTICUS  ^* 

"  Observe  the  man  into  whose  hands  we  have  fallen. 
How  keen  he  is,  how  alert,  how  well  prepared!  By  Jove, 
if  he  does  not  kill  anyone,  and  spares  the  property  of  those 
who  are  so  terrified,  he  will  be  in  high  favour.  I  talk  with 
the  tradesmen  and  farmers.  They  care  for  nothing  but 
their  lands,  and  houses,  and  money.  They  have  gone  right 
round.  They  fear  the  man  they  trusted,  and  love  the  man 
they  feared;  and  all  this  through  our  own  blunders.  I  am 
sick  to  think  of  it." 

BALBUS  TO  CICERO  ^'^ 

"  Pompey  and  Caesar  had  been  divided  by  perfidious 
villains.  I  beseech  you,  Cicero,  use  your  influence  to  bring 
them  together  again.  Believe  me,  Caesar  will  not  only  do 
all  you  wish,  but  will  hold  you  to  have  done  him  essential 
service.  Would  that  I  could  say  as  much  of  Pompey,  who 
I  rather  wish  than  hope  may  be  brought  to  terms!  You 
have  pleased  Caesar  by  begging  Lentulus  to  stay  in  Italy, 
and  you  have  more  than  pleased  me.     If  he  will  listen  to 


B.  c.  49]  LETTERS  329 

you,  will  trust  to  what  I  tell  him  of  Caesar,  and  will  go  back 
to  Rome,  between  you  and  him  and  the  Senate,  Caesar  and 
Pompey  may  be  reconciled.  If  I  can  see  this,  I  shall  have 
lived  long  enough.  I  know  you  will  approve  of  Caesar's 
conduct  at  Corfinium." 

CICERO  TO  ATTICUS  ^® 

"  My  preparations  are  complete.  I  wait  till  I  can  go  by 
the  upper  sea;  I  cannot  go  by  the  lower  at  this  season.  I 
must  start  soon,  lest  I  be  detained.  I  do  not  go  for  Pom- 
pey's  sake.  I  have  long  known  him  to  be  the  worst  of 
politicians,  and  I  know  him  now  for  the  worst  of 
generals.  I  go  because  I  am  sneered  at  by  the  Optimates. 
Precious  Optimates!  What  are  they  about  now?  Sell- 
ing themselves  to  Caesar?  The  towns  receive  Caesar  as  a 
god.  When  this  Pisistratus  does  them  no  harm,  they  are 
as  grateful  to  him  as  if  he  had  protected  them  from  others. 
What  receptions  will  they  not  give  him?  What  honours 
will  they  not  heap  upon  him?  They  are  afraid,  are  they? 
By  Hercules,  it  is  Pompey  that  they  are  afraid  of.  Caesar's 
treacherous  clemency  enchants  them.  Who  are  these 
Optimates,  that  insist  that  I  must  leave  Italy,  while  they 
remain?  Let  them  be  who  they  may,  I  am  ashamed  to 
stay,  though  I  know  what  to  expect.  I  shall  join  a  man 
who  means  not  to  conquer  Italy,  but  to  lay  it  waste." 

CICERO  TO  ATTICUS  ^^ 

"  Ought  a  man  to  remain  in  his  country  after  it  has  fallen 
under  a  tyranny?  Ought  a  man  to  use  any  means  to  over- 
throw tyranny,  though  he  may  ruin  his  country  in  doing  it? 
Ought  he  not  rather  to  try  to  mend  matters  by  argument 
as  opportunity  offers?  Is  it  right  to  make  war  on  one's 
country  for  the  sake  of  liberty?  Should  a  man  adhere  at 
all  risks  to  one  party,  though  he  considers  them  on  the 
whole  to  have  been  a  set  of  fools?  Is  a  person  who  has 
been  his  country's  greatest  benefactor,  and  has  been  re- 
warded by  envy  and  ill  usage,  to  volunteer  into  danger  for 


330  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  49 

such  a  party?     May  he  not  retire,  and  Uve  quietly  with 
his  family,  and  leave  public  affairs  to  their  fate? 

''  I  amuse  myself  as  time  passes  with  these  speculations." 

CICERO  TO  ATTICUS  ^^ 

"  Pompey  has  sailed.  I  am  pleased  to  find  that  you 
approve  of  my  remaining.  My  efforts  now  are  to  per- 
suade Caesar  to  allow  me  to  be  absent  from  the  Senate, 
which  is  soon  to  meet.  I  fear  he  will  refuse.  I  have  been 
deceived  in  two  points.  I  expected  an  arrangement;  and 
now  I  perceive  that  Pompey  has  resolved  upon  a  cruel  and 
deadly  war.  By  Heaven,  he  would  have  shown  himself  a 
better  citizen,  and  a  better  man,  had  he  borne  anything 
sooner  than  have  taken  in  hand  such  a  purpose." 

CICERO  TO  ATTICUS  ^* 

"  Pompey  has  sailed.  I  am  pleased  to  find  that  you 
^^  Sylla.  I  know  what  I  say.  Never  did  he  show  his  hand 
more  plainly.  Has  he  not  a  good  cause?  The  very  best. 
But  mark  me,  it  will  be  carried  out  most  foully.  He  means 
to  strangle  Rome  and  Italy  with  famine,  and  then  waste 
and  burn  the  country,  and  seize  the  property  of  all  who 
have  any.  Caesar  may  do  as  ill;  but  the  prospect  is  fright- 
ful. The  fleets  from  Alexandria,  Colchis,  Sidon,  Cyprus, 
Pamphylia,  Lycia,  Rhodes,  Chios,  Byzantium,  will  be  em- 
ployed to  cut  off  our  supplies,  and  then  Pompey  himself 
will  come  in  his  wrath." 

CICERO  TO  ATTICUS  ^® 

"  I  think  I  have  been  mad  from  the  beginning  of  this 
business.  Why  did  not  I  follow  Pompey  when  things 
were  at  their  worst?  I  found  him  (at  Capua)  full  of  fears. 
I  knew  then  what  he  would  do,  and  I  did  not  like  it.  He 
made  blunder  on  blunder.  He  never  wrote  to  me,  and 
only  thought  of  flight.  It  was  disgraceful.  But  now  my 
love  for  him  revives.  Books  and  philosophy  please  me  no 
more.  Like  the  sad  bird,  I  gaze  night  and  day  over  the 
sea,  and  long  to  fly  away.^^     Were  flight  the  worst,  it 


B.  c.  49]         SHADOW  OF  THE  FUTURE  33 1 

would  be  nothing,  but  I  dread  this  terrible  war,  the  like  of 
which  has  never  been  seen.  The  word  will  be,  *  Sylla 
could  do  thus  and  thus;  and  why  should  not  I?'  Sylla, 
Marius,  Cinna,  had  each  a  constitutional  cause;  yet  how 
cruel  was  their  victory!  I  shrank  from  war  because  I  saw 
that  something  still  more  cruel  was  now  intended.  I, 
whom  some  have  called  the  saviour  and  parent  of  my  coun- 
try !  I  to  bring  Getes,  and  Armenians,  and  Colchians  upon 
Italy!  I  to  famish  my  fellow-citizens  and  waste  their  lands! 
Caesar,  I  reflected,  was  in  the  first  place  but  mortal;  and 
then  there  were  many  ways  in  which  he  might  be  got  rid 
of.^^  But,  as  you  say,  the  sun  has  fallen  out  of  the  sky. 
The  sick  man  thinks  that  while  there  is  life  there  is  hope. 
I  continued  to  hope  as  long  as  Pompey  was  in  Italy.  Now 
your  letters  are  my  only  consolation." 

"Caesar  was  but  mortal!"  The  rapture  with  which 
Cicero  hailed  Caesar's  eventual  murder  explains  too  clearly 
the  direction  in  which  his  thoughts  were  already  running. 
If  the  life  of  Caesar  alone  stood  between  his  country  and 
the  resurrection  of  the  constitution,  Cicero  might  well 
think,  as  others  have  done,  that  it  was  better  that  one  man 
should  die  rather  than  the  whole  nation  perish.  We  read 
the  words  with  sorrow,  and  yet  with  pity.  That  Cicero, 
after  his  past  flatteries  of  Caesar,  after  the  praises  which 
he  was  yet  to  heap  on  him,  should  yet  have  looked  on  his 
assassination  as  a  thing  to  be  deserved,  throws  a  saddening 
light  upon  his  inner  nature.  But  the  age  was  sick  with  a 
moral  plague,  and  neither  strong  nor  weak,  wise  nor  un- 
wise, bore  any  antidote  against  infection. 

Notes 

» Page  319.  The  vision  on  the  Rubicon,  with  the  celebrated  saying 
that  "  the  die  is  cast,"  is  unauthenticated,  and  not  at  all  consistent 
with  Caesar's  character. 

'Page  321.  To  Atticus,  vii.  12. 

3  Page  321.  Delectus  .  .  .  invitorum  est  et  pugnando  ab  horrentium. 
lb.,  vii.  13. 

*  Page  322.  Compare  Caesar's  account  of  these  conditions,  De  Bello 
Civili,  i,  10,  with  Cicero  to  Atticus,  vii.  17. 


332  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  49 

"Page  322.  Between  the  Apennines  and  the  Adriatic  about  Ancona; 
in  the  line  of  Caesar's  march  should  he  advance  from  Rimini. 

•  Page  322.  To  Atticus,  vii.  16. 

''Page  323.  lb.,  vii.  21. 

«  Page  324.  "  Balbus  quidem  major  ad  me  scribit,  nihil  malle  Caesa- 
rem,  quam  principe  Pompeio  sine  metu  vivere.  Tu  puto  haec  credis.'* 
lb.,  viii.  9. 

'  Page  326.  lb.,  viii.  3. 

10  Page  327.  lb.,  viii.  11. 

"  Page  327.  "  Judicavique  te  bello  violari,  contra  cujus  honorem, 
populi  Romani  beneficio  concessum,  inimici  atque  invidi  niterentur. 
Sed  ut  eo  tempore  non  modo  ipse  fautor  dignitatis  tuae  fui,  verum  etiam 
caeteris  auctor  ad  te  adjuvandum,  sic  me  nunc  Pompeii  dignitas  vehe- 
menter  mo  vet,"  etc.— Cicero  to  Caesar,  inclosed  in  a  letter  to  Atticus, 
ix.  II. 

''  Page  327.  Inclosed  to  Atticus,  viii.  11. 

'3  Page  328,  Pompey  had  for  two  years  meditated  on  the  course 
which  he  was  now  taking.  Atticus  had  spoken  of  the  intended  flight 
from  Italy  as  base.  Cicero  answers:  "  Hoc  turpe  Cnaeus  noster  bien- 
nio  ante  cogitavit:  ita  SuUaturit  animus  ejus,  et  diu  proscripturit; " 
•'  so  he  apes  Sylla  and  longs  for  a  proscription."— To  Atticus,  ix.  10. 

**Page  328.  To  Atticus,  viii.  13. 

'5  Page  328.  Inclosed  to  Atticus,  viii.  15. 

1'  Page  329.  To  Atticus.  viii.  16. 

"Page  329.  lb.,  ix.  4. 

''Page  330.  lb.,  ix.  6. 

"  Page  330.  lb.,  7  and  9. 

'<*  Page  330.  lb. ,  ix.  10. 

"  Page  330.  *•  Ita  dies  et  noctes  tanquam  avis  ilia  mare  prospecto, 
evolare  cupio." 

"Page  331.  "  Hunc  primum  mortalem  esse,  deinde  etiam  multis 
modis  extingui  posse  cogitabam." — To  Atticus,  ix.  10. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

POMPEY  was  gone,  gone  to  cover  the  Mediterranean 
with  fleets  which  were  to  starve  Italy,  and  to  raise 
an  army  which  was  to  bring  him  back  to  play  Sylla's 
game  once  more.  The  consuls  had  gone  with  him,  more 
than  half  the  Senate,  and  the  young  patricians,  the  de- 
scendants of  the  Metelli  and  the  Scipios,  with  the  noble 
nature  melted  out  of  them,  and  only  the  pride  remaining. 
Caesar  would  have  chased  them  at  once,  and  have  allowed 
them  no  time  to  organize,  but  ships  were  wanting,  and  he 
could  not  wait  to  form  a  fleet.  Pompey's  lieutenants, 
Afranius  and  Petreius  and  Varro,  were  in  Spain,  with  six 
legions  and  the  levies  of  the  province.  These  had  to  be 
promptly  dealt  with,  and  Sicily  and  Sardinia,  on  which 
Rome  depended  for  its  corn,  had  to  be  cleared  of  enemies, 
and  placed  in  trustworthy  hands.  He  sent  Curio  to  Sicily 
and  Valerius  to  Sardinia.  Both  islands  surrendered  with- 
out resistance,  Cato,  who  was  in  command  in  Messina, 
complaining  openly  that  he  had  been  betrayed.  Caesar 
went  himself  to  Rome,  which  he  had  not  seen  for  ten  years. 
He  met  Cicero  by  appointment  on  the  road,  and  pressed 
him  to  attend  the  Senate.  Cicero's  example,  he  said, 
would  govern  the  rest.  If  his  account  of  the  interview  be 
true,  Cicero  showed  more  courage  than  might  have  been 
expected  from  his  letters  to  Atticus.  He  inquired 
whether,  if  he  went,  he  might  speak  as  he  pleased;  he  could 
not  consent  to  blame  Pompey,  and  he  should  say  that  he 
disapproved  of  attacks  upon  him,  either  in  Greece  or 
Spain.  Caesar  said  that  he  could  not  permit  language  of 
this  kind.  Cicero  answered  that  he  thought  as  much,  and 
therefore  preferred  to  stay  away.^  Caesar  let  him  take  his 
own  course,  and  went  on  by  himself.  The  consuls  being 
absent,  the  Senate  was  convened  by  the  tribunes,  Mark 

333 


334  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  49 

Antony  and  Cassius  Longinus,  both  officers  in  Caesar's 
army.  The  house  was  thin,  but  those  present  were  cold 
and  hostile.  They  knew  by  this  time  that  they  need  fear 
no  violence.  They  interpreted  Caesar's  gentleness  into 
timidity,  but  they  were  satisfied  that,  let  them  do  what  they 
pleased,  he  would  not  injure  them.  He  addressed  the  Sen- 
ate with  his  usual  clearness  and  simpHcity.  He  had  asked, 
he  said,  for  no  extraordinary  honours.  He  had  waited  the 
legal  period  of  ten  years  for  a  second  consulship.  A 
promise  had  been  given  that  his  name  should  be  sub- 
mitted, and  that  promise  had  been  withdrawn.  He  dwelt 
on  his  forbearance,  on  the  concessions  which  he  had 
offered,  and  again  on  his  unjust  recall,  and  the  violent  sup- 
pression of  the  legal  authority  of  the  tribunes.  He  had 
proposed  terms  of  peace,  he  said;  he  had  asked  for  inter- 
views, but  all  in  vain.  If  the  Senate  feared  to  commit 
themselves  by  assisting  him,  he  declared  his  willingness  to 
carry  on  the  government  in  his  own  name;  but  he  invited 
them  to  send  deputies  to  Pompey,  to  treat  for  an  arrange- 
ment. 

The  Senate  approved  of  sending  a  deputation;  but 
Pompey  had  sworn,  on  leaving,  that  he  would  hold  all  who 
had  not  joined  him  as  his  enemies;  no  one,  therefore,  could 
be  found  willing  to  go.  Three  days  were  spent  in  un- 
meaning discussion,  and  Caesar's  situation  did  not  allow  of 
trifling.  With  such  people  nothing  could  be  done,  and 
peace  could  be  won  only  by  the  sword.  By  an  edict  of  his 
own  he  restored  the  children  of  the  victims  of  Sylla's  pro- 
scription to  their  civil  rights  and  their  estates,  the  usurpers 
being  mostly  in  Pompey's  camp.  The  assembly  of  the 
people  voted  him  the  money  in  the  treasury.  Metellus,  a 
tribune  in  Pompey's  interest,  forbade  the  opening  of  the 
doors,  but  he  was  pushed  out  of  the  way.  Caesar  took  such 
money  as  he  needed,  and  went  with  his  best  speed  to  join 
his  troops  in  Gaul. 

His  singular  gentleness  had  encouraged  the  opposition 
to  him  in  Rome.  In  Gaul  he  encountered  another  result 
of  his  forbearance  more  practically  trying.     The  Gauls 


B.  c.  49]  BLOCKADE  OF  MARSEILLES  335 

themselves,  though  so  lately  conquered  in  so  desperate  a 
struggle,  remained  quiet.  Then,  if  ever,  they  had  an  op- 
portunity of  reasserting  their  independence.  They  not 
only  did  not  take  advantage  of  it,  but,  as  if  they  disdained 
the  unworthy  treatment  of  their  great  enemy,  each  tribe 
sent  him,  at  his  request,  a  body  of  horse,  led  by  the  bravest 
of  their  chiefs.  His  difficulty  came  from  a  more  tainted 
source.  Marseilles,  the  most  important  port  in  the  western 
Mediterranean,  the  gate  through  which  the  trade  of  the 
province  passed  in  and  out,  had  revolted  to  Pompey. 
Domitius  Ahenobarbus,  who  had  been  dismissed  at  Cor- 
finium,  had  been  despatched  to  encourage  and  assist  the 
townspeople  with  a  squadron  of  Pompey's  fleet.  When 
Caesar  arrived,  Marseilles  closed  its  gates,  and  refused  to 
receive  him.  He  could  not  afford  to  leave  behind  him  an 
open  door  into  the  province,  and  he  could  ill  spare  troops 
for  a  siege.  Afranius  and  Petreius  were  already  over  the 
Ebro  with  30,000  legionaries  and  with  nearly  twice  as  many 
Spanish  auxiliaries.  Yet  Marseilles  must  be  shut  in,  and 
quickly.  Fabius  was  sent  forward  to  hold  the  passes  of  the 
Pyrenees.  Caesar's  soldiers  were  set  to  work  in  the  forest. 
Trees  were  cut  down  and  sawn  into  planks.  In  thirty 
days  twelve  stout  vessels,  able  to  hold  their  own  against 
Domitius,  were  built  and  launched  and  manned.  The 
fleet  thus  extemporized  was  trusted  to  Decimus  Brutus. 
Three  legions  were  left  to  make  approaches,  and,  if  pos- 
sible, to  take  the  town  on  the  land  side;  and,  leaving  Mar- 
seilles blockaded  by  sea  and  land,  Caesar  hurried  on  to  the 
Spanish  frontier.  The  problem  before  him  was  worthy  of 
his  genius.  A  protracted  war  in  the  peninsula  would  be 
fatal.  Pompey  would  return  to  Italy,  and  there  would  be 
no  one  to  oppose  him  there.  The  Spanish  army  had  to  be 
destroyed  or  captured,  and  that  immediately;  and  it  was 
stronger  than  Caesar's  own,  and  was  backed  by  all  the  re- 
sources of  the  province. 

The  details  of  a  Roman  campaign  are  no  longer  interest- 
ing. The  results,  with  an  outline  of  the  means  by  which 
they  were  brought  about,  alone  concern  the  modern  reader. 


33^  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.C.  49 

Pompey's  lieutenants,  having  failed  to  secure  the  passes, 
were  lying  at  Lerida,  in  Catalonia,  at  the  junction  of  the 
Serge  and  the  Naguera,  with  the  Ebro  behind  them,  and 
with  a  mountain  range,  the  Sierra  de  Llena,  on  their  right 
flank.  Their  position  was  impregnable  to  direct  attack. 
From  their  rear  they  drew  inexhaustible  supplies.  The 
country  in  front  had  been  laid  waste  to  the  Pyrenees,  and 
everything  which  Caesar  required  had  to  be  brought  to  him 
from  Gaul.  In  forty  days  from  the  time  at  which  the 
armies  came  in  sight  of  each  other  Afranius  and  Petreius, 
with  all  their  legions,  were  prisoners.  Varro,  in  the  south, 
was  begging  for  peace,  and  all  Spain  lay  at  Caesar's  feet. 
At  one  moment  he  was  almost  lost.  The  melting  of  the 
snows  on  the  mountains  brought  a  flood  down  the  Segre. 
The  bridges  were  carried  away,  the  fords  were  impassable, 
and  his  convoys  were  at  the  mercy  of  the  enemy.  News 
flew  to  Rome  that  all  was  over,  that  Caesar's  army  was 
starving,  that  he  was  cut  off  between  the  rivers,  and  in  a 
few  days  must  surrender.  Marseilles  still  held  out.  Pom- 
pey's, it  seemed,  was  to  be  the  winning  side,  and  Cicero 
and  many  others,  who  had  hung  back  to  watch  how  events 
would  turn,  made  haste  to  join  their  friends  in  Greece  be- 
fore their  going  had  lost  show  of  credit.^ 

The  situation  was  indeed  most  critical.  Even  Caesar's 
own  soldiers  became  unsteady.  He  remarks  that  in  civil 
wars  generally  men  show  less  composure  than  in  ordinary 
campaigns.  But  resource  in  difficulties  is  the  distinction 
of  great  generals.  He  had  observed  in  Britain  that  the 
coast  fishermen  used  boats  made  out  of  frames  of  wicker 
covered  with  skins.  The  river  banks  were  fringed  with 
willows.  There  were  hides  in  abundance  on  the  carcases 
of  the  animals  in  the  camp.  Swiftly  in  these  vessels  the 
swollen  waters  of  the  Segre  were  crossed;  the  convoys 
were  rescued.  The  broken  bridges  were  repaired.  The 
communications  of  the  Pompeians  were  threatened  in  turn, 
and  they  tried  to  fall  back  over  the  Ebro;  but  they  left 
their  position  only  to  be  intercepted,  and  after  a  few  feeble 
struggles  laid  down  their  arms.     Among  the  prisoners 


B.  c.  49]  THE    SPANISH  CAMPAIGN  337 

were  found  several  of  the  young  nobles  who  had  been  re- 
leased at  Corfinium.  It  appeared  that  they  regarded 
Caesar  as  an  outlaw  with  whom  obligations  were  not  bind- 
ing. The  Pompeian  generals  had  ordered  any  of  Caesar's 
soldiers  who  fell  into  their  hands  to  be  murdered.  He  was 
not  provoked  into  retaliation.  He  again  dismissed  the 
whole  of  the  captive  force,  officers  and  men,  contenting 
himself'  with  this  time  exacting  a  promise  from  them  that 
they  would  not  serve  against  him  again.  They  gave  their 
word  and  broke  it.  The  generals  and  military  tribunes 
made  their  way  to  Greece  to  Pompey.  Of  the  rest  some 
enlisted  in  Caesar's  legions;  others  scattered  to  combine 
again  when  opportunity  allowed. 

Varro,  who  commanded  a  legion  in  the  south,  behaved 
more  honourably.  He  sent  in  his  submission,  entered  into 
the  same  engagement,  and  kept  it.  He  was  an  old  friend  of 
Caesar's,  and  better  understood  him.  Caesar,  after  his  vic- 
tory at  Lerida,  went  down  to  Cordova,  and  summoned  the 
leading  Spaniards  and  Romans  to  meet  him  there.  All 
came  and  promised  obedience.  Varro  gave  in  his  ac- 
counts, with  his  ships,  and  stores,  and  money.  Caesar  then 
embarked  at  Cadiz,  and  went  round  to  Tarragona,  where 
his  own  legions  were  waiting  for  him.  From  Tarragona 
he  marched  back  by  the  Pyrenees,  and  came  in  time  to  re- 
ceive in  person  the  surrender  of  Marseilles. 

The  siege  had  been  a  difficult  one,  with  severe  engage- 
ments both  by  land  and  sea.  Domitius  and  his  galleys  had 
attacked  the  ungainly  but  useful  vessels  which  Caesar  had 
extemporized.  He  had  been  driven  back  with  the  loss  of 
half  his  fleet.  Pompey  had  sent  a  second  squadron  to  help 
him,  and  this  had  fared  no  better.  It  had  fled  after  a 
single  battle  and  never  reappeared.  The  land  works  had 
been  assailed  with  ingenuity  and  courage.  The  agger  had 
been  burnt  and  the  siege  towers  destroyed.  But  they  had 
been  repaired  instantly  by  the  industry  of  the  legions,  and 
Marseilles  was  at  the  last  extremity  when  Caesar  arrived. 
He  had  wished  to  spare  the  townspeople,  and  had  sent 
orders  that  the  place  was  not  to  be  stormed.  On  his  ap- 
22 


338  JULIUS   C^SAR  [B.  c.  49 

pearance  the  keys  of  the  gates  were  brought  to  him  without 
conditions.  Again  he  pardoned  everyone;  more,  he  said, 
for  the  reputation  of  the  colony  than  for  the  merits  of  its 
inhabitants.  Domitius  had  fled  in  a  gale  of  wind,  and  once 
more  escaped.     A  third  time  he  was  not  to  be  so  fortunate. 

Two  legions  were  left  in  charge  of  Marseilles;  others 
returned  to  their  quarters  in  Gaul.  Well  as  the  tribes  had 
behaved,  it  was  unsafe  to  presume  too  much  on  their 
fidelity,  and  Caesar  was  not  a  partisan  chief,  but  the  guar- 
dian of  the  Roman  Empire.  With  the  rest  of  his  army  he 
returned  to  Rome  at  the  beginning  of  the  winter.  All 
had  been  quiet  since  the  news  of  the  capitulation  at  Lerida. 
The  aristocracy  had  gone  to  Pompey.  The  disaffection 
among  the  people  of  which  Cicero  spoke  had  existed  only 
in  his  wishes,  or  had  not  extended  beyond  the  classes  who 
had  expected  from  Caesar  a  general  partition  of  property, 
and  had  been  disappointed.  His  own  successes  had  been 
brilliant.  Spain,  Gaul,  and  Italy,  Sicily  and  Sardinia,  were 
entirely  his  own.  Elsewhere  and  away  from  his  own  eye 
things  had  gone  less  well  for  him.  An  attempt  to  make  a 
naval  force  in  the  Adriatic  had  failed;  and  young  Curio, 
who  had  done  Caesar  such  good  service  as  tribune,  had  met 
with  a  still  graver  disaster.  After  recovering  Sicily,  Curio 
had  been  directed  to  cross  to  Africa  and  expel  Pompey's 
garrisons  from  the  province.  His  troops  were  inferior, 
consisting  chiefly  of  the  garrison  which  had  surrendered 
at  Corfinium.  Through  military  inexperience  he  had  fallen 
into  a  trap  laid  for  him  by  Juba,  King  of  Mauritania,  and 
had  been  killed. 

Caesar  regretted  Curio  personally.  The  African  mis- 
fortune was  not  considerable  in  itself,  but  it  encouraged 
hopes  and  involved  consequences  which  he  probably  fore- 
saw. There  was  no  present  leisure,  however,  to  attend  to 
Juba.  On  arriving  at  the  city  he  was  named  Dictator.  As 
Dictator  he  held  the  consular  elections,  and,  with  Servilius 
Isauricus  for  a  colleague,  he  was  chosen  consul  for  the  year 
which  had  been  promised  to  him,  though  under  circum- 
stances so  strangely  changed.     With  curious  punctilious- 


B.  c.  49]  CONDITION  OF  THE  CITY  339 

ness  he  observed  that  the  legal  interval  had  expired  since 
he  was  last  in  office,  and  that  therefore  there  was  no  formal 
objection  to  his  appointment. 

Civil  affairs  were  in  the  wildest  confusion.  The  Senate 
had  fled;  the  administration  had  been  left  to  Antony, 
whose  knowledge  of  business  was  not  of  a  high  order;  and 
over  the  whole  of  Italy  hung  the  terror  of  Pompey's  fleet 
and  of  Asiatic  invasion.  Pubhc  credit  was  shaken. 
Debts  had  not  been  paid  since  the  civil  war  began. 
Money-lenders  had  charged  usurious  interest  for  default, 
and  debtors  were  crying  for  novae  tabulae,  and  hoped  to 
clear  themselves  by  bankruptcy.  Caesar  had  but  small 
leisure  for  such  matters.  Pompey  had  been  allowed 
too  long  a  respite,  and  unless  he  sought  Pompey  in  Greece 
Pompey  would  be  seeking  him  at  home,  and  the  horrid 
scenes  of  Sylla's  wars  would  be  enacted  over  again.  He 
did  what  he  could,  risking  the  loss  of  the  favour  of  the 
mob  by  disappointing  dishonest  expectations.  Estimates 
were  drawn  of  all  debts  as  they  stood  twelve  months  be- 
fore. The  principal  was  declared  to  be  still  due.  The 
interest  for  the  interval  was  cancelled.  Many  persons 
complained  of  injustice  which  they  had  met  with  in  the 
courts  of  law  during  the  time  that  Pompey  was  in  power. 
Caesar  refused  to  revise  the  sentences  himself,  lest  he 
should  seem  to  be  encroaching  on  functions  not  belonging 
to  him;  but  he  directed  that  such  causes  should  be  heard 
again. 

Eleven  days  were  all  he  could  afiford  to  Rome.  So  swift 
was  Caesar  that  his  greatest  exploits  were  measured  by 
days.  He  had  to  settle  accounts  with  Pompey  while  it  was 
still  winter,  and  while  Pompey's  preparations  for  the  in- 
vasion of  Italy  were  still  incomplete;  and  he  and  his  vet- 
erans, scarcely  allowing  themselves  a  breathing-time,  went 
down  to  Brindisi. 

It  was  now  the  beginning  of  January  by  the  unreformed 
calendar  (by  the  seasons  the  middle  of  October) — a  year 
within  a  few  days  since  Caesar  had  crossed  the  Rubicon. 
He  had  nominally  twelve  legions  under  him.     But  long 


340  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  49 

marches  had  thinned  the  ranks  of  his  old  and  best-tried 
troops.  The  change  from  the  dry  cUmate  of  Gaul  and 
Spain  to  the  South  of  Italy  in  a  wet  autumn  had  affected 
the  health  of  the  rest,  and  there  were  many  invalids.  The 
force  available  for  field  service  was  small  for  the  work  which 
was  before  it:  in  all  not  more  than  30,000  men.  Pom- 
pey's  army  lay  immediately  opposite  Brindisi,  at  Durazzo. 
It  was  described  afterwards  as  inharmonious  and  ill-disci- 
plined, but  so  far  as  report  went  at  the  time  Caesar  had 
never  encountered  so  formidable  an  enemy.  There  were 
nine  legions  of  Roman  citizens  with  their  complements  full. 
Two  more  were  coming  up  with  Scipio  from  Syria.  Be- 
sides these  there  were  auxiliaries  from  the  allied  princes 
in  the  East;  corps  from  Greece  and  Asia  Minor,  slingers 
and  archers  from  Crete  and  the  islands.  Of  money,  of 
stores  of  all  kinds,  there  was  abundance,  for  the  Eastern 
revenue  had  been  all  paid  for  the  last  year  to  Pompey,  and 
he  had  levied  impositions  at  his  pleasure. 

Such  was  the  Senate's  land  army,  and  before  Caesar 
could  cross  swords  with  it  a  worse  danger  lay  in  his  path. 
It  was  not  for  nothing  that  Cicero  said  that  Pompey  had 
been  careful  of  his  fleet.  A  hundred  and  thirty  ships,  the 
best  which  were  to  be  had,  were  disposed  in  squadrons 
along  the  east  shore  of  the  Adriatic,  the  headquarters  were 
at  Corfu;  and  the  one  purpose  was  to  watch  the  passage 
and  prevent  Caesar  from  crossing  over. 

Transports  run  down  by  vessels  of  war  were  inevitably 
sunk.  Twelve  fighting  triremes,  the  remains  of  his  at- 
tempted Adriatic  fleet,  were  all  that  Caesar  could  collect  for 
a  convoy.  The  weather  was  wild.  Even  of  transports  he 
had  but  enough  to  carry  half  his  army  in  a  single  trip. 
With  such  a  prospect  and  with  the  knowledge  that  if  he 
reached  Greece  at  all  he  would  have  to  land  in  the  imme- 
diate neighbourhood  of  Pompey's  enormous  host,  surprise 
has  been  expressed  that  Caesar  did  not  prefer  to  go  round 
through  Illyria,  keeping  his  legions  together.  But  Caesar 
had  won  many  victories  by  appearing  where  he  was  least 
expected.     He  liked  well  to  descend  like  a  bolt  out  of  the 


B.  c.  49]  CiESAR  GOES  TO   GREECE  34I 

blue  sky;  and,  for  the  very  reason  that  no  ordinary  person 
would  under  such  circumstances  have  thought  of  attempt- 
ing the  passage,  he  determined  to  try  it.  Long  marches 
exhausted  the  troops.  In  bad  weather  the  enemy's  fleet 
preferred  the  harbours  to  the  open  sea;  and  perhaps  he  had 
a  further  and  special  ground  of  confidence  in  knowing  that 
the  ofidcer  in  charge  at  Corfu  was  his  old  acquaintance, 
Bibulus — Bibulus,  the  fool  of  the  aristocracy,  the  butt  of 
Cicero,  who  had  failed  in  everything  which  he  had  under- 
taken, and  had  been  thanked  by  Cato  for  his  ill-successes. 
Caesar  knew  the  men  with  whom  he  had  to  deal.  He  knew 
Pompey's  incapacity;  he  knew  Bibulus's  incapacity.  He 
knew  that  public  feeling  among  the  people  was  as  much  on 
his  side  in  Greece  as  in  Italy.  Above  all,  he  knew  his 
own  troops,  and  felt  that  he  could  rely  on  them,  however 
heavy  the  odds  might  be.  He  resolved  to  save  Italy  at  all 
hazards  from  becoming  the  theatre  of  war,  and  therefore 
the  best  road  for  him  was  that  which  would  lead  most 
swiftly  to  his  end. 

On  the  4th  of  January,  then,  by  unreformed  time, 
Caesar  sailed  with  15,000  men  and  500  horse  from  Brindisi. 
The  passage  was  rough  but  swift,  and  he  landed  without 
adventure  at  Acroceraunia,  now  Cape  Linguetta,  on  the 
eastern  shore  of  the  Straits  of  Otranto.  Bibulus  saw  him 
pass  from  the  heights  of  Corfu,  and  put  to  sea,  too  late  to 
intercept  him — in  time,  however,  unfortunately,  to  fall  in 
with  the  returning  transports.  Caesar  had  started  them 
immediately  after  disembarking,  and  had  they  made  use  of 
the  darkness  they  might  have  gone  over  unperceived;  they 
lingered  and  were  overtaken;  Bibulus  captured  thirty  of 
them,  and,  in  rage  at  his  own  blunder,  killed  everyone  that 
he  found  on  board. 

Ignorant  of  this  misfortune,  and  expecting  that  Antony 
would  follow  him  in  a  day  or  two  with  the  remainder  of  the 
army,  Caesar  advanced  at  once  toward  Durazzo,  occupied 
Apollonia,  and  intrenched  himself  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
river  Apsus.  The  country,  as  he  anticipated,  was  well- 
disposed  and  furnished  him  amply  with  supplies.     He  still 


342  JULIUS  CJESAR  [b.  c.  48 

hoped  to  persuade  Pompey  to  come  to  terms  with  him. 
He  trusted,  perhaps  not  unreasonably,  that  the  generosity 
with  which  he  had  treated  Marseilles  and  the  Spanish 
legions  might  have  produced  an  effect;  and  he  appealed 
once  more  to  Pompey's  wiser  judgment.  Vibullius  Rufus, 
who  had  been  taken  at  Corfinium,  and  a  second  time  on  the 
Lerida,  had  since  remained  with  Caesar.  Rufus,  being  per- 
sonally known  as  an  ardent  member  of  the  Pompeian  party, 
was  sent  forward  to  Durazzo  with  a  message  of  peace. 

"  Enough  had  been  done,"  Caesar  said,  *'  and  Fortune 
ought  not  to  be  tempted  further.  Pompey  had  lost  Italy, 
the  two  Spains,  Sicily,  and  Sardinia,  and  a  hundred  and 
thirty  cohorts  of  his  soldiers  had  been  captured.  Caesar 
had  lost  Curio  and  the  army  of  Africa.  They  were  thus  on 
an  equality,  and  might  spare  their  country  the  conse- 
quences of  further  rivalry.  If  either  he  or  Pompey  gained 
a  decisive  advantage,  the  victor  would  be  compelled  to  in- 
sist on  harder  terms.  If  they  could  not  agree,  Caesar  was 
willing  to  leave  the  question  between  them  to  the  Senate 
and  people  of  Rome,  and  for  themselves,  he  proposed  that 
they  should  each  take  an  oath  to  disband  their  troops  in 
three  days." 

Pompey,  not  expecting  Caesar,  was  absent  in  Macedonia 
when  he  heard  of  his  arrival,  and  was  hurrying  back  to 
Durazzo.  Caesar's  landing  had  produced  a  panic  in  his 
camp.  Men  and  officers  were  looking  anxiously  in  each 
other's  faces.  So  great  was  the  alarm,  so  general  the  dis- 
trust, that  Labienus  had  sworn  in  the  presence  of  the  army 
that  he  would  stand  faithfully  by  Pompey.  Generals, 
tribunes,  and  centurions  had  sworn  after  him.  They  had 
then  moved  up  to  the  Apsus  and  encamped  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river,  waiting  for  Pompey  to  come  up. 

There  was  now  a  pause  on  both  sides.  Antony  was  un- 
able to  leave  Brindisi,  Bibulus  being  on  the  watch  day  and 
night.  A  single  vessel  attempted  the  passage.  It  was 
taken  and  everyone  on  board  was  massacred.  The  weather 
was  still  wild,  and  both  sides  suffered.  If  Caesar's  trans- 
ports could  not  put  to  sea,  Bibulus's  crews  could  not  land 


B.  c.  48]  DEATH    OF  BIBULUS  343 

either  for  fuel  or  water  anywhere  south  of  Apollonia. 
Bibulus  held  on  obstinately  till  he  died  of  exposure  to  wet 
and  cold,  so  ending  his  useless  life;  but  his  death  did  not 
affect  the  situation  favourably  for  Caesar;  his  command 
fell  into  abler  hands. 

At  length  Pompey  arrived.  Vibullius  Rufus  delivered 
his  message.  Pompey  would  not  hear  him  to  the  end. 
"  What  care  I,"  he  said,  ''  for  life  or  country  if  I  am  to 
hold  both  by  the  favour  of  Caesar?  All  men  will  think  thus 
of  me  if  I  make  peace  now.  .  .  I  left  Italy.  Men  will 
say  that  Caesar  has  brought  me  back." 

In  the  legions  the  opinion  was  different.  The  two 
armies  were  divided  only  by  a  narrow  river.  Friends  met 
and  talked.  They  asked  each  other  for  what  purpose  so 
desperate  a  war  had  been  undertaken.  The  regular  troops 
all  idolized  Caesar.  Deputations  from  both  sides  were 
chosen  to  converse  and  consult,  with  Caesar's  warmest  ap- 
proval. Some  arrangement  might  have  followed.  But 
Labienus  interposed.  He  appeared  at  the  meeting  as  if  to 
join  in  the  conference;  he  was  talking  in  apparent  friendli- 
ness to  Cicero's  acquaintance,  Publius  Vatinius,  who  was 
serving  with  Caesar.  Suddenly  a  shower  of  darts  were 
hurled  at  Vatinius.  His  men  flung  themselves  in  front  of 
him  and  covered  his  body;  but  most  of  them  were 
wounded,  and  the  assembly  broke  up  in  confusion,  La- 
bienus shouting,  ''  Leave  your  talk  of  composition;  there 
can  be  no  peace  till  you  bring  us  Caesar's  head." 

Cool  thinkers  were  beginning  to  believe  that  Caesar  was 
in  a  scrape  from  which  his  good  fortune  would  this  time 
fail  to  save  him.  Italy  was  on  the  whole  steady,  but  the 
slippery  politicians  in  the  capital  were  on  the  watch.  They 
had  been  disappointed  on  finding  that  Caesar  would  give 
no  sanction  to  confiscation  of  property,  and  a  spark  of  fire 
burst  out  which  showed  that  the  elements  of  mischief  were 
active  as  ever.  Cicero's  correspondent,  Marcus  Caelius, 
had  thrown  himself  eagerly  on  Caesar's  side  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  war.  He  had  been  left  as  praetor  at  Rome 
when  Caesar  went  to  Greece.     He  in  his  wisdom  conceived 


344  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  48 

that  the  wind  was  changing,  and  that  it  was  time  for  him  to 
earn  his  pardon  from  Pompey.  He  told  the  mob  that  Csesar 
would  do  nothing  for  them,  that  Caesar  cared  only  for  his 
capitaHsts.  He  wrote  privately  to  Cicero  that  he  was 
bringing  them  over  to  Pompey,^  and  he  was  doing  it  in  the 
way  in  which  pretended  revolutionists  so  often  play  into 
the  hands  of  reactionaries.  He  proposed  a  law  in  the 
assembly  in  the  spirit  of  Jack  Cade,  that  no  debts  should  be 
paid  in  Rome  for  six  years,  and  that  every  tenant  should 
occupy  his  house  for  two  years  free  of  rent.  The  admin- 
istrators of  the  Government  treated  him  as  a  madman,  and 
deposed  him  from  office.  He  left  the  city  pretending  that 
he  was  going  to  Caesar.  The  once  notorious  Milo,  who 
had  been  in  exile  since  his  trial  for  the  murder  of  Clodius, 
privately  joined  him;  and  together  they  raised  a  band  of 
gladiators  in  Campania,  professing  to  have  a  commission 
from  Pompey.  Milo  was  killed.  Cselius  fled  to  Thurii, 
where  he  tried  to  seduce  Caesar's  garrison,  and  was  put  to 
death  for  his  treachery.  The  familiar  actors  in  the  drama 
were  beginning  to  drop.  Bibulus  was  gone,  and  now 
Caelius  and  Milo.  Fools  and  knaves  are  usually  the  first 
to  fall  in  civil  distractions,  as  they  and  their  works  are  the 
active  causes  of  them. 

Meantime  months  passed  away.  The  winter  wore 
through  in  forced  inaction,  and  Caesar  watched  in  vain  for 
the  sails  of  his  coming  transports.  The  Pompeians  had 
for  some  weeks  blockaded  Brindisi.  Antony  drove  them  ofT 
with  armed  boats;  but  still  he  did  not  start,  and  Caesar 
thought  that  opportunities  had  been  missed.*  He  wrote 
to  Antony  sharply.  The  legions,  true  as  steel,  were  ready 
for  any  risks  sooner  than  leave  their  commander  in  danger. 
A  south  wind  came  at  last,  and  they  sailed.  They  were 
seen  in  mid-channel,  and  closely  pursued.  Night  fell,  and 
in  the  darkness  they  were  swept  past  Durazzo,  to  which 
Pompey  had  again  withdrawn,  with  the  Pompeian  squad- 
ron in  full  chase  behind  them.  They  ran  into  the  harbour 
of  Nymphaea,  three  miles  north  of  Lissa,  and  were  fortu- 
nate in  entering  it  safely.    Sixteen  of  the  pursuers  ran  upon 


B.  c.  48]  ANTONY   REACHES   GREECE  345 

the  rocks,  and  the  crews  owed  their  lives  to  Caesar's  troops, 
who  saved  them.  So  Caesar  mentions  briefly,  in  silent  con- 
trast to  the  unvarying  ferocity  of  the  Pompeian  leaders. 
Two  only  of  the  transports  which  had  left  Brindisi  were 
missing  in  the  morning.  They  had  gone  by  mistake  into 
Lissa,  and  were  surrounded  by  the  boats  of  the  enemy, 
who  promised  that  no  one  should  be  injured  if  they  sur- 
rendered. *'  Here,"  says  Caesar,  in  a  characteristic  sen- 
tence, ''  may  be  observed  the  value  of  firmness  of  mind." 
One  of  the  vessels  had  two  hundred  and  twenty  young 
soldiers  on  board,  the  other  two  hundred  veterans.  The 
recruits  were  sea-sick  and  frightened.  They  trusted  the 
enemy's  fair  words,  and  were  immediately  murdered.  The 
others  forced  their  pilot  to  run  the  ship  ashore.  They  cut 
their  way  through  a  band  of  Pompey's  cavalry,  and  joined 
their  comrades  without  the  loss  of  a  man. 

Antony's  position  was  most  dangerous,  for  Pompey's 
whole  army  lay  between  him  and  Caesar;  but  Caesar 
marched  rapidly  round  Durazzo,  and  had  joined  his  friend 
before  Pompey  knew  that  he  had  moved. 

Though  still  far  outnumbered,  Caesar  was  now  in  a  con- 
dition to  meet  Pompey  in  the  field,  and  desired  nothing 
so  much  as  decisive  action.  Pompey  would  not  give  him 
the  opportunity,  and  kept  within  his  lines.  To  show  the 
world,  therefore,  how  matters  stood  between  them,  Caesar 
drew  a  line  of  strongly  fortified  posts  round  Pompey's 
camp  and  shut  him  in.  Force  him  to  a  surrender  he  could 
not,  for  the  sea  was  open,  and  Pompey's  fleet  had  entire 
command  of  it.  But  the  moral  effect  on  Italy  of  the  news 
that  Pompey  was  besieged  might,  it  was  hoped,  force  him 
out  from  his  intrenchments.  If  Pompey  could  not  venture 
to  engage  Caesar  on  his  own  chosen  ground,  and  sur- 
rounded by  his  Eastern  friends,  his  cause  at  home  would  be 
abandoned  as  lost.  Nor  was  the  active  injury  which 
Caesar  was  able  to  inflict  inconsiderable.  He  turned  the 
streams  on  which  Pompey's  camp  depended  for  water. 
The  horses  and  cattle  died.  Fever  set  in  with  other  incon- 
veniences.    The  labour  of  the  siege  was,  of  course,  severe. 


346  JULIUS    C^SAR  [B.  c.  48 

The  lines  were  many  miles  in  length,  and  the  difficulty 
of  sending  assistance  to  a  point  threatened  by  a  sally  was 
extremely  great.  The  corn  in  the  fields  was  still  green, 
and  supplies  grew  scanty.  Meat  Caesar's  army  had,  but 
of  wheat  little  or  none;  they  were  used  to  hardship,  how- 
ever, and  bore  it  with  admirable  humour.  They  made  cakes 
out  of  roots,  ground  into  paste  and  mixed  with  milk;  and 
thus,  in  spite  of  privation  and  severe  work,  they  remained 
in  good  health,  and  deserters  daily  came  in  to  them. 

So  the  seige  of  Durazzo  wore  on,  diversified  with  occa- 
sional encounters,  which  Caesar  details  with  the  minuteness 
of  a  scientific  general  writing  for  his  profession,  and  with 
those  admiring  mentions  of  each  individual  act  of  courage 
which  so  intensely  endeared  him  to  his  troops.  Once  an 
accidental  opportunity  offered  itself  for  a  successful  storm, 
but  Caesar  was  not  on  the  spot.  The  officer  in  command 
shrank  from  responsibility;  and,  notwithstanding  the  seri- 
ousness of  the  consequences,  Caesar  said  that  the  officer  was 
right. 

Pompey's  army  was  not  yet  complete.  Metellus  Scipio 
had  not  arrived  with  the  Syrian  legions.  Scipio  had  come 
leisurely  through  Asia  Minor,  plundering  cities  and  tem- 
ples and  flaying  the  people  with  requisitions.  He  had  now 
reached  Macedonia,  and  Domitius  Calvinus  had  been  sent 
with  a  separate  command  to  watch  him.  Caesar's  own 
force,  already  too  small  for  the  business  on  hand,  was  thus 
further  reduced,  and  at  this  moment  there  fell  out  one  of 
those  accidents  which  overtake  at  times  the  ablest  com- 
manders, and  gave  occasion  for  Caesar's  observation  that 
Pompey  knew  not  how  to  conquer. 

There  were  two  young  Gauls  with  Caesar  whom  he  had 
promoted  to  important  positions.  They  were  reported  to 
have  committed  various  peculations.  Caesar  spoke  to  them 
privately.  They  took  offence  and  deserted.  There  was  a 
weak  spot  in  Caesar's  lines  at  a  point  the  furthest  removed 
from  the  body  of  the  army.  The  Gauls  gave  Pompey  no- 
tice of  it,  and  on  this  point  Pompey  flung  himself  with  his 
whole  strength.     The  attack  was  a  surprise.     The  engage- 


B.  c.  48]  RETREAT  OF  CAESAR  347 

ment  which  followed  was  desperate  and  unequal,  for  the 
reliefs  were  distant  and  came  up  one  by  one.  For  once 
Caesar's  soldiers  were  seized  with  panic,  lost  their  order, 
and  forgot  their  discipline.  On  the  news  of  danger  he 
flew  himself  to  the  scene,  threw  himself  into  the  thickest  of 
the  fight,  and  snatched  the  standards  from  the  flying  bear- 
ers. But  on  this  single  occasion  he  failed  in  restoring 
confidence.  The  defeat  was  complete;  and,  had  Pompey 
understood  his  business,  Caesar's  whole  army  might  have 
been  overthrown.  Nearly  a  thousand  men  were  killed, 
with  many  field  officers  and  many  centurions.  Thirty-two 
standards  were  lost,  and  some  hundreds  of  legionaries  were 
taken.  Labienus  begged  the  prisoners  of  Pompey.  He 
called  them  mockingly  old  comrades.  He  asked  them  how 
veterans  came  to  fly.  They  were  led  into  the  midst  of  the 
camp  and  were  all  killed. 

Caesar's  legions  had  believed  themselves  invincible. 
The  effect  of  this  misfortune  was  to  mortify  and  infuriate 
them.  They  were  eager  to  fling  themselves  again  upon 
the  enemy  and  win  back  their  laurels;  but  Caesar  saw  that 
they  were  excited  and  unsteady,  and  that  they  required 
time  to  collect  themselves.  He  spoke  to  them  with  his 
usual  calm  cheerfulness.  He  praised  their  courage.  He 
reminded  them  of  their  many  victories,  and  bade  them  not 
be  cast  down  at  a  misadventure  which  they  would  soon 
repair;  but  he  foresaw  that  the  disaster  would  affect  the 
temper  of  Greece  and  make  his  commissariat  more  difficult 
than  it  was  already.  He  perceived  that  he  must  adopt 
some  new  plan  of  campaign,  and  with  instant  decision  he 
fell  back  upon  Apollonia. 

The  gleam  of  victory  was  the  cause  of  Pompey's  ruin. 
It  was  unlooked  for,  and  the  importance  of  it  exaggerated. 
Caesar  was  supposed  to  be  flying  with  the  wreck  of  an  army 
completely  disorganized  and  disheartened.  So  sure  were 
the  Pompeians  that  it  could  never  rally  again  that  they  re- 
garded the  war  as  over;  they  made  no  efforts  to  follow  up 
a  success  which,  if  improved,  might  have  been  really  decis- 
ive; and  they  gave  Caesar  the  one  thing  which  he  needed, 


348  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  48 

time  to  recover  from  its  effects.  After  he  had  placed  his 
sick  and  wounded  in  security  at  Apollonia,  his  first  object 
was  to  rejoin  Calvinus,  who  had  been  sent  to  watch  Scipio, 
and  might  now  be  cut  off.  Fortune  was  here  favourable.- 
Calvinus,  by  mere  accident,  learnt  his  danger,  divined 
where  Caesar  would  be,  and  came  to  meet  him.  The  next 
thing  was  to  see  what  Pompey  would  do.  He  might  em- 
bark for  Italy.  In  this  case  Caesar  would  have  to  follow 
him  by  Illyria  and  the  head  of  the  Adriatic.  Cisalpine 
Gaul  was  true  to  him,  and  could  be  relied  on  to  refill  his 
ranks.  Or  Pompey  might  pursue  him  in  the  hope  to  make 
an  end  of  the  war  in  Greece,  and  an  opportunity  might 
offer  itself  for  an  engagement  under  fairer  terms.  On  the 
whole  he  considered  the  second  alternative  the  more  likely 
one,  and  with  this  expectation  he  led  his  troops  into  the 
rich  plains  of  Thessaly  for  the  better  feeding  which  they  so 
much  needed.  The  news  of  his  defeat  preceded  him. 
Gomphi,  an  important  Thessalian  town,  shut  its  gates  upon 
him;  and,  that  the  example  might  not  be  followed,  Gom- 
phi was  instantly  stormed  and  given  up  to  plunder.  One 
such  lesson  was  enough.  No  more  opposition  was  ven- 
tured by  the  Greek  cities. 

Pompey  meanwhile  had  broken  up  from  Durazzo,  and 
after  being  joined  by  Scipio  was  following  leisurely. 
There  were  not  wanting  persons  who  warned  him  that 
Caesar's  legions  might  still  be  dangerous.  Both  Cicero 
and  Cato  had  advised  him  to  avoid  a  battle,  to  allow  Caesar 
to  wander  about  Greece  till  his  supplies  failed  and  his 
army  was  worn  out  by  marches.  Pompey  himself  was  in- 
clined to  the  same  opinion.  But  Pompey  was  no  longer 
able  to  act  on  his  own  judgment.  The  senators  who  were 
with  him  in  the  camp  considered  that  in  Greece,  as  in 
Rome,  they  were  the  supreme  rulers  of  the  Roman  Em- 
pire. All  along  they  had  held  their  sessions  and  their  de- 
bates, and  they  had  voted  resolutions  which  they  ex- 
pected to  see  complied  with.  They  had  never  liked  Pom- 
pey. If  Cicero  was  right  in  supposing  that  Pompey  meant 
to  be  another  Sylla,  the  senators  had  no  intention  of  allow- 


B.  c.  48]  THE  EVE  OF  PHARSALIA  349 

ing  it.  They  had  gradually  wrested  his  authority  out  of 
his  hands,  and  reduced  him  to  the  condition  of  an  officer  of 
a  Senatorial  Directory.  These  gentlemen,  more  especially 
the  two  late  consuls,  Scipio  and  Lentulus,  were  persuaded 
that  a  single  blow  would  now  make  an  end  of  Caesar.  His 
army  was  but  half  the  size  of  theirs,  without  counting  the 
Asiatic  auxiliaries.  The  men,  they  were  persuaded,  were 
dispirited  by  defeat  and  worn  out.  So  sure  were  they  of 
victory  that  they  were  impatient  of  every  day  which  de- 
layed their  return  to  Italy.  They  accused  Pompey  of  pro- 
tracting the  war  unnecessarily,  that  he  might  have  the  hon- 
our of  commanding  such  distinguished  persons  as  them- 
selves. They  had  arranged  everything  that  was  to  be 
done.  Caesar  and  his  band  of  cut-throats  were  in  imagin- 
ation already  despatched.  They  had  butchered  hitherto 
every  one  of  them  who  had  fallen  into  their  hands,  and  the 
same  fate  was  designed  for  their  political  allies.  They  pro- 
posed to  establish  a  senatorial  court  after  their  return  to 
Italy  in  which  citizens  of  all  kinds  who  had  not  actually 
fought  on  the  Senate's  side  were  to  be  brought  up  for  trial. 
Those  who  should  be  proved  to  have  been  active  for  Caesar 
were  to  be  at  once  killed,  and  their  estates  confiscated. 
Neutrals  were  to  fare  almost  as  badly.  Not  to  have  as- 
sisted the  lawful  rulers  of  the  State  was  scarcely  better  than 
to  have  rebelled  against  them.  They,  too,  were  liable  to 
death  or  forfeiture,  or  both.  A  third  class  of  offenders  was 
composed  of  those  who  had  been  within  Pompey's  lines, 
but  had  borne  no  part  in  the  fighting.  These  cold-hearted 
friends  were  to  be  tried  and  punished  according  to  the  de- 
gree of  their  criminality.  Cicero  was  the  person  pointed 
at  in  the  last  division.  Cicero's  clear  judgment  had  shown 
him  too  clearly  what  was  likely  to  be  the  result  of  a  cam- 
paign conducted  as  he  found  it  on  his  arrival,  and  he  had 
spoken  his  thoughts  with  sarcastic  freedom.  The  noble 
lords  came  next  to  a  quarrel  among  themselves  as  to  how 
the  spoils  of  Caesar  were  to  be  divided.  Domitius  Aheno- 
barbus,  Lentulus  Spinther,  and  Scipio  were  unable  to  de- 
termine which  of  them  was  to  succeed  Caesar  as  Pontifex 


350  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  48 

Maximus,  and  which  was  to  have  his  palace  and  gardens 
in  Rome.  The  Roman  oligarchy  were  true  to  their  char- 
acter to  the  eve  of  their  ruin.  It  was  they,  with  their  idle 
luxury,  their  hunger  for  lands  and  office  and  preferment, 
who  had  brought  all  this  misery  upon  their  country;  and 
standing,  as  it  were,  at  the  very  bar  of  judgment,  with  the 
sentence  of  destruction  about  to  be  pronounced  upon 
them,  their  thoughts  were  still  bent  upon  how  to  secure 
the  largest  share  of  plunder  for  themselves. 

The  battle  of  Pharsalia  was  not  the  most  severe,  still  less 
was  it  the  last,  action  of  the  war.  But  it  acquired  a  spe- 
cial place  in  history,  because  it  was  a  battle  fought  by  the 
Roman  aristocracy  in  their  own  persons  in  defence  of  their 
own  supremacy.  Senators  and  the  sons  of  senators;  the 
heirs  of  the  names  and  fortunes  of  the  ancient  Roman  fami- 
lies; the  leaders  of  society  in  Roman  saloons,  and  the  chiefs 
of  the  political  party  of  the  Optimates  in  the  Curia  and 
Forum,  were  here  present  on  the  field;  representatives  in 
person  and  in  principle  of  the  traditions  of  Sylla,  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  representatives  of  Marius.  Here  were 
the  men  who  had  pursued  Caesar  through  so  many  years 
with  a  hate  so  inveterate.  Here  were  the  haughty  Patri- 
cian Guard,  who  had  drawn  their  swords  on  him  in  the  Sen- 
ate-house, young  lords  whose  theory  of  life  was  to  lounge 
through  it  in  patrician  insouciance.  The  other  great  ac- 
tions were  fought  by  the  ignoble  multitude,  whose  deaths 
were  of  less  significance.  The  plains  of  Pharsalia  were 
watered  by  the  precious  blood  of  the  elect  of  the  earth. 
The  battle  there  marked  an  epoch  like  no  other  in  the 
history  of  the  world. 

For  some  days  the  two  armies  had  watched  each  other's 
movements.  Caesar,  to  give  his  men  confidence,  had  again 
offered  Pompey  an  opportunity  of  fighting.  But  Pompey 
had  kept  to  positions  where  he  could  not  be  attacked.  To 
draw  him  into  more  open  ground,  Caesar  had  shifted  his 
camp  continually.  Pompey  had  followed  cautiously,  still 
remaining  on  his  guard.  His  political  advisers  were  impa- 
tient of  these  dilatory  movements.     They  taunted  him 


B.  c.  48]  PHARSAUA  35 1 

with  cowardice.  They  insisted  that  he  should  set  his  foot 
on  this  insignificant  adversary  promptly  and  at  once;  and 
Pompey,  gathering  courage  from  their  confidence,  and 
trusting  to  his  splendid  cavalry,  agreed  at  last  to  use  the 
first  occasion  that  presented  itself. 

One  morning,  on  the  Enipeus,  near  Larissa,  the  9th  of 
August,  old  style,  or  towards  the  end  of  May  by  real  time, 
Caesar  had  broken  up  his  camp  and  was  preparing  for  his 
usual  leisurely  march,  when  he  perceived  a  movement  in 
Pompey's  lines  which  told  him  that  the  movement  which 
he  had  so  long  expected  was  come.  Labienus,  the  evil 
genius  of  the  Senate,  who  had  tempted  them  into  the  war 
by  telling  them  that  his  comrades  were  as  disaffected  as 
himself,  and  had  fired  Caesar's  soldiers  into  intensified 
fierceness  by  his  barbarities  at  Durazzo,  had  spoken  the 
deciding  word:  *' Believe  not,"  Labienus  had  said,  "that 
this  is  the  army  which  defeated  the  Gauls  and  the  Germans. 
I  was  in  those  battles,  and  what  I  say  I  know.  That  army 
has  disappeared.  Part  fell  in  action;  part  perished  of  fever 
in  the  autumn  in  Italy.  Many  went  home.  Many  were 
left  behind  unable  to  move.  The  men  you  see  before  you 
are  levies  newly  drawn  from  the  colonies  beyond  the  Po. 
Of  the  veterans  that  were  left  the  best  were  killed  at 
Durazzo." 

A  council  of  war  had  been  held  at  dawn.  There  had 
been  a  solemn  taking  of  oaths  again.  Labienus  swore  that 
he  would  not  return  to  the  camp  except  as  a  conqueror; 
so  swore  Pompey;  so  swore  Lentulus,  Scipio,  Domitius;  so 
swore  all  the  rest.  They  had  reason  for  their  high  spirits. 
Pompey  had  forty-seven  thousand  Roman  infantry,  not  in- 
cluding his  allies,  and  seven  thousand  cavalry.  Caesar  had 
but  twenty-two  thousand,  and  of  horse  only  a  thousand. 
Pompey's  position  was  carefully  chosen.  His  right  wing 
was  covere'd  by  the  Enipeus,  the  opposite  bank  of  which 
was  steep  and  wooded.  His  left  spread  out  into  the  open 
plain  of  Pharsalia.  His  plan  of  battle  was  to  send  forward 
his  cavalry  outside  over  the  open  ground,  with  clouds  of 
archers  and  slingers,  to  scatter  Caesar's  horse,  and  then  to 


352  JULIUS   CiESAR  [b.  c.  48 

wheel  round  and  envelop  his  legions.  Thus  he  had 
thought  they  would  lose  heart  and  scatter  at  the  first  shock. 
Caesar  had  foreseen  what  Pompey  would  attempt  to  do. 
His  own  scanty  cavalry,  mostly  Gauls  and  Germans,  would, 
he  well  knew,  be  unequal  to  the  weight  which  would  be 
thrown  on  them.  He  had  trained  an  equal  number  of 
picked  active  men  to  fight  in  their  ranks,  and  had  thus 
doubled  their  strength.  Fearing  that  this  might  be  not 
enough,  he  had  taken  another  precaution.  The  usual  Ro- 
man formation  in  battle  was  in  triple  Hne.  Caesar  had 
formed  a  fourth  line  of  cohorts  specially  selected  to  en- 
gage the  cavalry;  and  on  them,  he  said,  in  giving  them 
their  instructions,  the  result  of  the  action  would  probably 
depend. 

Pompey  commanded  on  his  own  left  with  the  two  le- 
gions which  he  had  taken  from  Caesar;  outside  him  on  the 
plain  were  his  flying  companies  of  Greeks  and  islanders, 
with  the  cavalry  covering  them.  Caesar,  with  his  favourite 
Tenth,  was  opposite  Pompey.  His  two  faithful  tribunes, 
Mark  Antony  and  Cassius  Longinus,  led  the  left  and  cen- 
tre. Servilia's  son,  Marcus  Brutus,  was  in  Pompey's 
army.  Caesar  had  given  special  directions  that  Brutus,  if 
recognised,  should  not  be  injured.  Before  the  action  be- 
gan he  spoke  a  few  general  words  to  such  of  his  troops 
as  could  hear  him.  They  all  knew,  he  said,  how  earnestly 
he  had  sought  for  peace,  how  careful  he  had  always  been 
of  his  soldiers'  lives,  how  unwilling  to  deprive  the  State 
of  the  services  of  any  of  her  citizens,  to  whichever  party 
they  might  belong.  Crastinus,  a  centurion,  of  the  Tenth 
legion,  already  known  to  Caesar  for  his  gallantry,  called 
out,  "  Follow  me,  my  comrades,  and  strike,  and  strike 
home,  for  your  general.  This  one  battle  remains  to  be 
fought,  and  he  will  have  his  rights  and  we  our  liberty. 
General,"  he  said,  looking  to  Caesar,  "  I  shall  earn  your 
thanks  this  day,  dead  or  alive." 

Pompey  had  ordered  his  first  line  to  stand  still  to  receive 
Caesar's  charge.*^  They  would  thus  be  fresh,  while  the 
enemy  would  reach  them  exhausted — a  mistake  on  Pom- 


B.  c.  48]  PHARSALIA  353 

pey's  part,  as  Caesar  thought;  "  for  a  fire  and  alacrity  (he 
observed)  is  kindled  in  all  men  when  they  meet  in  battle, 
and  a  wise  general  should  rather  encourage  than  repress 
their  fervour." 

The  signal  was  given.  Caesar's  front  rank  advanced 
running.  Seeing  the  Pompeians  did  not  move,  they 
halted,  recovered  breath,  then  rushed  on,  flung  their  darts, 
and  closed  sword  in  hand.  At  once  Pompey's  horse  bore 
down,  outflanking  Caesar's  right  wing,  with  the  archers  be- 
hind and  between  them  raining  showers  of  arrows. 
Caesar's  cavalry  gave  way  before  the  shock,  and  the  outer 
squadrons  came  wheeling  round  to  the  rear,  expecting  that 
there  would  be  no  one  to  encounter  them.  The  fourth 
line,  the  pick  and  flower  of  the  legions,  rose  suddenly  in 
their  way.  Surprised  and  shaken  by  the  fierceness  of  the 
attack  on  them,  the  Pompeians  turned,  they  broke,  they 
galloped  wildly  off.  The  best  cavalry  in  those  Roman  bat- 
tles were  never  a  match  for  infantry  when  in  close  forma- 
tion, and  Pompey's  brilliant  squadrons  were  carpet  knights 
from  the  saloon  and  the  circus.  They  never  rallied,  or 
tried  to  rally;  they  made  off  for  the  nearest  hills.  The 
archers  were  cut  to  pieces;  and  the  chosen  corps,  having 
finished  so  easily  the  service  for  which  they  had  been  told 
off,  threw  themselves  on  the  now  exposed  flank  of  Pom- 
pey's left  wing.  It  was  composed,  as  has  been  said,  of  the 
legions  which  had  once  been  Caesar's,  which  had  fought 
under  him  at  the  Vingeanne  and  at  Alesia.  They  ill  liked, 
perhaps,  the  change  of  masters,  and  were  in  no  humour  to 
stand  the  charge  of  their  old  comrades  coming  on  with  the 
familiar  rush  of  victory.  Caesar  ordered  up  his  third  line, 
which  had  not  yet  been  engaged;  and  at  once  on  all  sides 
Pompey's  great  army  gave  way,  and  fled.  Pompey  him- 
self, the  shadow  of  his  old  name,  long  harassed  out  of  self- 
respect  by  his  senatorial  directors,  a  commander  only  in 
appearance,  had  left  the  field  in  the  beginning  of  the  ac- 
tion. He  had  lost  heart  on  the  defeat  of  the  cavalry,  and 
had  retired  to  his  tent  to  wait  the  issue  of  the  day. 

The  stream  of  fugitives  pouring  in  told  him  too  surely 
23 


354  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  48 

what  the  issue  had  been.  He  sprang  upon  his  horse  and 
rode  off  in  despair.  His  legions  were  rushing  back  in  con- 
fusion. Caesar,  swift  always  at  the  right  moment,  gave  the 
enemy  no  leisure  to  reform,  and  fell  at  once  upon  the  camp. 
It  was  noon,  and  the  morning  had  been  sultry;  but  the 
heat  and  weariness  were  forgotten  in  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
triumph  which  all  then  believed  must  conclude  the  war.  A 
few  companies  of  Thracians,  who  had  been  left  on  guard, 
made  a  brief  resistance,  but  they  were  soon  borne  down. 
The  beaten  army,  which  a  few  hours  before  were  sharing 
in  imagination  the  lands  and  offices  of  their  conquerors, 
fled  out  through  the  opposite  gates,  throwing  away  their 
arms,  flinging  down  their  standards,  and  racing,  officers 
and  men,  for  the  rocky  hills  which  at  a  mile's  distance 
promised  them  shelter. 

The  camp  itself  was  a  singular  picture.  Houses  of  turf 
had  been  built  for  the  luxurious  patricians,  with  ivy  trained 
over  the  entrances  to  shade  their  delicate  faces  from  the 
summer  sun;  couches  had  been  laid  out  for  them  to  repose 
on  after  their  expected  victory;  tables  were  spread  with 
plate  and  wines,  and  the  daintiest  preparations  of  Roman 
cookery.  Caesar  commented  on  the  scene  with  mournful 
irony.  "  And  these  men,"  he  said,  "  accused  my  patient, 
suffering  army,  which  had  not  even  common  necessaries, 
of  dissoluteness  and  profligacy!  " 

Two  hundred  only  of  Caesar's  men  had  fallen.  The  offi- 
cers had  suffered  most.  The  gallant  Crastinus,  who  had 
nobly  fulfilled  his  promise,  had  been  killed,  among  many 
others,  in  opening  a  way  for  his  comrades.  The  Pom- 
peians,  after  the  first  shock,  had  been  cut  down  unresisting. 
Fifteen  thousand  of  them  lay  scattered  dead  about  the 
ground.  There  were  few  wounded  in  these  battles.  The 
short  sword  of  the  Romans  seldom  left  its  work  unfinished. 

"  They  would  have  it  so,"  Caesar  is  reported  to  have 
said,  as  he  looked  sadly  over  the  littered  bodies  in  the  fa- 
miliar patrician  dress.  "  After  all  that  I  had  done  for  my 
country,  I,  Caius  Caesar,  should  have  been  condemned  by 
them  as  a  criminal  if  I  had  not  appealed  to  my  army."  ® 


B.  c.  48]  PHARSALIA  355 

But  Caesar  did  not  wait  to  indulge  in  reflections.  His 
object  was  to  stamp  the  fire  out  on  the  spot,  that  it  might 
never  kindle  again.  More  than  half  the  Pompeians  had 
reached  the  hills  and  were  making  for  Larissa.  Leaving 
part  of  his  legions  in  the  camp  to  rest,  Caesar  took  the 
freshest  the  same  evening,  and  by  a  rapid  march  cut  ofif 
their  line  of  retreat.  The  hills  were  waterless,  the  weather 
suffocating.  A  few  of  the  guiltiest  of  the  Pompeian  lead- 
ers, Labienus,  Lentulus,  Afranius,  Petreius,  and  Metellus 
Scipio  (Cicero  and  Cato  had  been  left  at  Durazzo),  con- 
trived to  escape  in  the  night.  The  rest,  twenty-four  thou- 
sand of  them,  surrendered  at  daylight.  They  came  down 
praying  for  mercy  which  they  had  never  shown,  sobbing 
out  their  entreaties  on  their  knees  that  the  measure  which 
they  had  dealt  to  others  might  not  be  meted  out  to  them. 
Then  and  always  Caesar  hated  unnecessary  cruelty,  and 
never,  if  he  could  help  it,  allowed  executions  in  cold  blood. 
He  bade  them  rise,  said  a  few  gentle  words  to  relieve  their 
fears,  and  sent  them  back  to  the  camp.  Domitius  Aheno- 
barbus,  believing  that  for  him  at  least  there  could  be  no 
forgiveness,  tried  to  escape,  and  was  killed.  The  rest  were 
pardoned. 

So  ended  the  battle  of  Pharsalia.  A  hundred  and  eighty 
standards  were  taken  and  all  the  eagles  of  Pompey's  le- 
gions. In  Pompey's  own  tent  was  found  his  secret  corre- 
spondence, implicating  persons,  perhaps,  whom  Caesar  had 
never  suspected,  revealing  the  mysteries  of  the  past  three 
years.  Curiosity  and  even  prudence  might  have  tempted 
him  to  look  into  it.  His  only  wish  was  that  the  past 
should  be  forgotten:  he  burnt  the  whole  mass  of  papers 
unread. 

Would  the  war  now  end?  That  was  the  question. 
Caesar  thought  that  it  would  not  end  as  long  as  Pompey 
was  at  large.  The  feelings  of  others  may  be  gathered  out 
of  abridgments  from  Cicero's  letters: 


35^  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B,  c.  48 


CICERO  TO   PLANCIUS  ^ 

"  Victory  on  one  side  meant  massacre,  on  the  other 
slavery.  It  consoles  me  to  remember  that  I  forsaw  these 
things,  and  as  much  feared  the  success  of  our  cause  as  the 
defeat  of  it.  I  attached  myself  to  Pompey's  party  more  in 
hope  of  peace  than  from  desire  of  war;  but  I  saw,  if  we  had 
the  better,  how  cruel  would  be  the  triumph  of  an  exas- 
perated, avaricious,  and  insolent  set  of  men;  if  we  were  de- 
feated, how  many  of  our  wealthiest  and  noblest  citizens 
must  fall.  Yet  when  I  argued  thus  and  offered  my  advice 
I  was  taunted  for  being  a  coward." 

CICERO  TO  CAIUS  CASSIUS  ® 

"  We  were  both  opposed  to  a  continuance  of  the  war 
[after  Pharsalia].  I,  perhaps,  more  than  you;  but  we 
agreed  that  one  battle  should  be  accepted  as  decisive,  if 
not  of  the  whole  cause,  yet  of  our  own  judgment  upon  it. 
Nor  were  there  any  who  differed  from  us  save  those  who 
thought  it  better  that  the  constitution  should  be  destroyed 
altogether  than  be  preserved  with  diminished  prerogatives. 
For  myself  I  could  hope  nothing  from  the  overthrow  of  it, 
and  much  if  a  remnant  could  be  saved.  .  .  And  I 
thought  it  likely  that  after  that  decisive  battle  the  victors 
would  consider  the  welfare  of  the  public,  and  that  the  van- 
quished would  consider  their  own." 

TO  VARRO  ® 

"  You  were  absent  [at  the  critical  moment].  I  for  my- 
self perceived  that  our  friends  wanted  war,  and  that  Caesar 
did  not  want  it,  but  was  not  afraid  of  it.  Thus  much  of 
human  purpose  was  in  the  matter.  The  rest  came  neces- 
sarily; for  one  side  or  the  other  would,  of  course,  conquer. 
You  and  I  both  grieved  to  see  how  the  State  would  suffer 
from  the  loss  of  either  army  and  its  generals;  we  knew  that 
victory  in  a  civil  war  was  itself  a  most  miserable  disaster.  I 
dreaded  the  success  of  those  to  whom  I  had  attached  my- 


B.  c.  48]  PHARSALIA  357 

self.  They  threatened  most  cruelly  those  who  had  stayed 
quietly  at  home.  Your  sentiments  and  my  speeches  were 
alike  hateful  to  them.  If  our  side  had  won,  they  would 
have  shown  no  forbearance." 

TO    MARCUS    MARIUS^*^ 

"  When  you  met  me  on  the  13th  of  May  (49),  you  were 
anxious  about  the  part  which  I  was  to  take.  If  I  stayed 
in  Italy,  you  feared  that  I  should  be  wanting  in  duty.  To 
go  to  the  war  you  thought  dangerous  to  me.  I  was  my- 
self so  disturbed  that  I  could  not  tell  what  it  was  best  for 
me  to  do.  I  consulted  my  reputation,  however,  more  than 
my  safety,  and  if  I  afterwards  repented  of  my  decision  it 
was  not  for  the  peril  to  myself,  but  on  account  of  the  state 
of  things  which  I  found  on  my  arrival  at  Pompey's  camp. 
His  forces  were  not  very  considerable  nor  good  of  their 
kind.  For  the  chiefs,  if  I  except  the  general  and  a  few 
others,  they  were  rapacious  in  their  conduct  of  the  war, 
and  so  savage  in  their  language  that  I  dreaded  to  see  them 
victorious.  The  most  considerable  among  them  were 
overwhelmed  with  debt.  There  was  nothing  good  about 
them  but  their  cause.  I  despaired  of  success  and  recom- 
mended peace.  When  Pompey  would  not  hear  of  it,  I 
advised  him  to  protract  the  war.  This  for  the  time  he  ap- 
proved, and  he  might  have  continued  firm  but  for  the  con- 
fidence which  he  gathered  from  the  battle  at  Durazzo. 
From  that  day  the  great  man  ceased  to  be  a  general. 
With  a  raw  and  inexperienced  army  he  engaged  legions 
in  perfect  discipline.  On  the  defeat  he  basely  deserted  his 
camp  and  fled  by  himself.  For  me  this  was  the  end :  I  re- 
tired from  a  war  in  which  the  only  alternatives  before  me 
were  either  to  be  killed  in  action  or  be  taken  prisoner,  or 
fly  to  Juba  in  Africa,  or  hide  in  exile,  or  destroy  myself." 

TO  C^CINA  ^^ 

"  I  would  tell  you  my  prophecies  but  that  you  would 
think  I  had  made  them  after  the  event.  But  many  per- 
sons can  bear  me  witness  that  I  first  warned  Pompey 


358  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  48 

against  attaching  himself  to  Caesar,  and  then  against  quar- 
relling with  him.  Their  union  (I  said)  had  broken  the 
power  of  the  Senate;  their  discord  would  cause  a  civil  war. 
I  was  intimate  with  Caesar;  I  was  most  attached  to  Pom- 
pey;  but  my  advice  was  for  the  good  of  them  both.  .  . 
I  thought  that  Pompey  ought  to  go  to  Spain.  Had  he 
done  so,  the  war  would  not  have  been.  I  did  not  so  much 
insist  that  Caesar  could  legally  stand  for  the  consulship  as 
that  his  name  should  be  accepted,  because  the  people  had 
so  ordered  at  Pompey's  own  instance.  I  advised,  I  en- 
treated. 1  preferred  the  most  unfair  peace  to  the  most 
righteous  war.  I  was  overborne,  not  so  much  by  Pom- 
pey (for  on  him  I  produced  an  effect)  as  by  men  who  re- 
lied on  Pompey's  leadership  to  win  them  a  victory,  which 
would  be  convenient  for  their  personal  interests  and  pri- 
vate ambitions.  No  misfortune  has  happened  in  the  war 
which  I  did  not  predict." 

Notes 

^  Page  333.  To  Atticus,  ii.  18. 

•Page  336.  "  TuUia  bids  me  wait  till  I  see  how  things  go  in  Spain, 
and  she  says  you  are  of  the  same  opinion.  The  advice  would  be  good, 
if  I  could  adapt  my  conduct  to  the  issue  of  events  there.  But  one  of 
three  alternatives  must  happen.  Either  Cassar  will  be  driven  back, 
which  would  please  me  best,  or  the  war  will  be  protracted,  or  he  will 
be  completely  victorious.  If  he  is  defeated,  Pompey  will  thank  me 
little  for  joining  him.  Curio  himself  will  then  go  over  to  him.  If  the 
war  hangs  on,  how  long  am  I  to  wait  ?  If  Csesar  conquers,  it  is  thought 
we  may  then  have  peace.  But  I  consider,  on  the  other  hand,  tlTat  it 
would  be  more  decent  to  forsake  Caesar  in  success  than  when  beaten 
and  in  difficulties.  The  victory  of  Caesar  means  massacre,  confiscation, 
recall  of  exiles,  a  clean  sweep  of  debts,  every  worst  man  raised  to 
honour,  and  a  rule  which  not  only  a  Roman  citizen  but  a  Persian  could 
not  endure.  .  .  Pompey  will  not  lay  down  his  arms  for  the  loss  of 
Spain;  he  holds  with  Themistocles  that  those  who  are  masters  at  sea 
will  be  the  victors  in  the  end.  He  has  neglected  Spain.  He  has  given 
all  his  care  to  his  ships.  When  the  time  comes  he  will  return  to  Italy 
with  an  overwhelming  fleet.  And  what  will  he  say  to  me  if  he  finds 
me  still  sitting  here  ? — Let  alone  duty,  I  must  think  of  the  danger.  .  . 
Every  course  has  its  perils  ;  but  I  should  surely  avoid  a  course  which  is 
both  ignominious  and  perilous  also. 

'•  I  did  not  accompany  Pompey  when  he  went  himself  ?    I  could  not. 


B.  c.  48]  PHARSALIA  359 

I  had  not  time.  And  yet,  to  confess  the  truth,  I  made  a  mistake  which, 
perhaps,  I  should  not  have  made.  I  thought  there  would  be  peace,  and 
I  would  not  have  Caesar  angry  with  me  after  he  and  Pompey  had  be- 
come friends  again.  Thus  I  hesitated ;  but  1  can  overtake  my  fault  if 
I  lose  no  more  time,  and  I  am  lost  if  I  delay. — I  see  that  Caesar  cannot 
stand  long.  He  will  fall  of  himself  if  we  do  nothing.  When  his  affairs 
were  most  flourishing,  he  became  unpopular  with  the  hungry  rabble  of 
the  city  in  six  or  seven  days.  He  could  not  keep  up  the  mask.  His 
harshness  to  Metellus  destroyed  his  credit  for  clemency,  and  his  taking 
money  from  the  treasury  destroyed  his  reputation  for  riches. 

"As  to  his  followers,  how  can  men  govern  provinces  who  cannot 
manage  their  own  affairs  for  two  months  together?  Such  a  monarchy 
could  not  last  half  a  year.  The  wisest  men  have  miscalculated.  .  . 
If  that  is  my  case,  I  must  bear  the  reproach.  .  .  but  I  am  sure  it  will 
be  as  I  say.  Csesar  will  fall,  either  by  his  enemies  or  by  himself,  who 
is  his  worst  enemy.  .  .  I  hope  I  may  live  to  see  it,  though  you  and  I 
should  be  thinking  more  of  the  other  life  than  of  this  transitory  one  ; 
but  so  it  come,  no  matter  whether  I  see  it  or  foresee  it." — To  Atticus, . 
X.  8. 

3  Page  344.  "  Nam  hie  nunc  prseter  foeneratores  paucos  nee  homo  nee 
ordo  quisquam  est  nisi  Pompeianus.  Equidem  jam  effeci  ut  maxime 
plebs  et  qui  antea  noster  fuit  populus  vester  esset." — Caelius  to  Cicero, 
Ad.  Fam.,  viii.  17. 

*  Page  344.  Caesar  says  nothing  of  his  putting  to  sea  in  a  boat,  mean- 
ing to  go  over  in  person,  and  being  driven  back  by  the  weather.  The 
story  is  probably  no  more  than  one  of  the  picturesque  additions  to 
reality  made  by  men  who  find  truth  too  tame  for  them. 

^  Page  352.  I  follow  Caesar's  own  account  of  the  action.  Appian  is 
minutely  circumstantial,  and  professes  to  describe  from  the  narratives 
of  eye-witnesses.  But  his  story  varies  so  far  from  Caesar's  as  to  be  irre- 
concilable with  it,  and  Caesar's  own  authority  is  incomparably  the  best. 

«  Page  354.  Suetonius,  quoting  from  Asinius  PoUio,  who  was  present 
at  the  battle. 

'  Page  356.  Ad  Familiares,  iv.  14. 

*Page  356.  lb.,  XV.  15. 

•Page  356.  lb.,  ix.  6. 

'oPage  357.  lb.,  vii.  3. 

"  Page  357.  lb.,  vi.  6. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  strength  of  the  senatorial  party  lay  in  Pompey's 
popularity  in  the  East.  A  halo  was  still  supposed 
to  hang  about  him  as  the  creator  of  the  Eastern 
Empire,  and  so  long  as  he  was  alive  and  at  liberty  there 
was  always  a  possibility  that  he  might  collect  a  new  army. 
To  overtake  him,  to  reason  with  him,  and,  if  reason  failed, 
to  prevent  him  by  force  from  involving  himself  and  the 
State  in  fresh  difficulties,  was  Caesar's  first  object.  Pom- 
pey,  it  was  found,  had  ridden  from  the  battlefield  direct 
to  the  sea,  attended  by  a  handful  of  horse.  He  had  gone 
on  board  a  grain  vessel  which  carried  him  to  Amphipolis. 
At  Amphipolis  he  had  stayed  but  a  single  night,  and  had 
sailed  for  Mitylene,  where  he  had  left  his  wife  and  his  sons. 
The  last  accounts  which  the  poor  lady  had  heard  of  him 
had  been  such  as  reached  Lesbos  after  the  affair  at  Du- 
razzo.  Young  patricians  had  brought  her  word  that  her 
husband  had  gained  a  glorious  victory,  that  he  had  joined 
her  father,  Metellus  Scipio,  and  that  together  they  were 
pursuing  Caesar  with  the  certainty  of  overwhelming  him. 
Rumour,  cruel  as  usual — 

Had  brought  smooth  comforts  false,  worse  than  true  wrongs. 

Rumour  had  told  Cornelia  that  Caesar  had  "  stooped  his 
head  "  before  Pompey's  '*  rage."  Pompey  came  in  per- 
son to  inform  her  of  the  miserable  reality.  At  Mitylene 
Pompey's  family  were  no  longer  welcome  guests.  They 
joined  him  on  board  his  ship  to  share  his  fortunes,  but 
what  those  fortunes  were  to  be  was  all  uncertain.  Asia 
had  seemed  devoted  to  him.  To  what  part  of  it  should  he 
go?  To  Cilicia?  to  Syria?  to  Armenia?  To  Parthia? 
For  even  Parthia  was  thought  of.  Unhappily  the  report 
of  Pharsalia  had  flown  before  him,  and  the  vane  of  senti- 

360 


B.  c.  48]  POMFEY    SAILS  TO   EGYPT  361 

ment  had  everywhere  veered  round.  The  ^gean  islands 
begged  him  politely  not  to  compromise  them  by  his  pres- 
ence. He  touched  at  Rhodes.  Lentulus,  flying  from  the 
battlefield,  had  tried  Rhodes  before  him,  and  had  been  re- 
quested to  pass  on  upon  his  way.  Lentulus  was  said  to 
be  gone  to  Egypt.  Polite  to  Pompey  the  Rhodians  were, 
but  perhaps  he  was  generously  unwilling  to  involve  them 
in  trouble  in  his  behalf.  He  went  on  to  Cilicia,  the  scene 
of  his  old  glory  in  the  pirate  wars.  There  he  meant  to 
land  and  take  refuge  either  with  the  Parthians  or  with  one 
of  the  allied  princes.  But  in  CiUcia  he  heard  that  Anti- 
och  had  declared  for  Caesar.  AUies  and  subjects,  as  far 
as  he  could  learn,  were  all  for  Caesar.  Egypt,  whither 
Lentulus  had  gone,  appeared  the  only  place  where  he  could 
surely  calculate  on  being  welcome.  Ptolemy  the  Piper, 
the  occasion  of  so  much  scandal,  was  no  longer  living,  but 
he  owed  the  recovery  of  his  throne  to  Pompey.  Gabinius 
had  left  a  few  thousand  of  Pompey's  old  soldiers  at  Alex- 
andria to  protect  him  against  his  subjects.  These  men 
had  married  Egyptian  wives  and  had  adopted  Egyptian 
habits,  but  they  could  not  have  forgotten  their  old  gen- 
eral. They  were  acting  as  guards  at  present  to  Ptolemy's 
four  children,  two  girls,  Cleopatra  and  Arsinoe,  and  two 
boys,  each  called  Ptolemy.  The  father  had  bequeathed 
the  crown  to  the  two  elder  ones,  Cleopatra,  who  was 
turned  sixteen,  and  a  brother  two  years  younger.  Here, 
at  least,  among  these  young  princes  and  their  guardians, 
who  had  been  their  father's  friends,  their  father's  greatest 
benefactor  might  count  with  confidence  on  finding  hos- 
pitality. 

For  Egypt,  therefore,  Pompey  sailed,  taking  his  family 
along  with  him.  He  had  collected  a  few  ships  and  2000 
miscellaneous  followers,  and  with  them  he  arrived  off 
Pelusium,  the  modern  Damietta.  His  forlorn  condition 
was  a  punishment  sufficiently  terrible  for  the  vanity  which 
had  flung  his  countr)/  into  war.  But  that  it  had  been  his 
own  doing  the  letters  of  Cicero  prove  with  painful  clear- 
ness; and  though  he  had  partially  seen  his  error  at  Capua, 


3^2  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  48 

and  would  then  have  possibly  drawn  back,  the  passions 
and  hopes  which  he  had  excited  had  become  too  strong 
for  him  to  contend  against.  From  the  day  of  his  flight 
from  Italy  he  had  been  as  a  leaf  whirled  upon  a  winter 
torrent.  Plain  enough  it  had  long  been  to  him  that  he 
would  not  be  able  to  govern  the  wild  forces  of  a  reaction 
which,  if  it  had  prevailed,  would  have  brought  back  a  more 
cruel  tyranny  than  Sylla's.  He  was  now  flung  as  a  waif 
on  the  shore  of  a  foreign  land;  and  if  Providence  on  each 
occasion  proportioned  the  penalties  of  misdoing  to  the 
magnitude  of  the  fault,  it  might  have  been  considered  that 
adequate  retribution  had  been  inflicted  on  him.  But  the 
consequences  of  the  actions  of  men  live  when  the  actions 
are  themselves  forgotten,  and  come  to  light  without  re- 
guard  to  the  fitness  of  the  moment.  The  Senators  of  Rome 
were  responsible  for  the  exactions  which  Ptolemy  Auletes 
had  been  compelled  to  wring  out  of  his  subjects.  Pom- 
pey  himself  had  entertained  and  supported  him  in  Rome 
when  he  was  driven  from  his  throne,  and  had  connived  at 
the  murder  of  the  Alexandrians  who  had  been  sent  to  re- 
monstrate against  his  restoration.  It  was  by  Pompey  that 
he  had  been  forced  again  upon  his  miserable  subjects,  and 
had  been  compelled  to  grind  them  with  fresh  extortions. 
It  was  not  unnatural  under  these  circumstances  that  the 
Egyptians  were  eager  to  free  themselves  from  a  subjec- 
tion which  bore  more  heavily  on  them  than  annexation 
to  the  Empire.  A  national  party  had  been  formed  on 
Ptolemy's  death  to  take  advantage  of  the  minority  of  his 
children.  Cleopatra  had  been  expelled.  The  Alexan- 
drian citizens  kept  her  brother  in  their  hands,  and  were 
now  ruling  in  his  name;  the  demoralized  Roman  garrison 
had  been  seduced  into  supporting  them,  and  they  had  an 
army  lying  at  the  time  at  Pelusium,  to  guard  against  Cleo- 
patra and  her  friends. 

Of  all  this  Pompey  knew  nothing.  When  he  arrived 
off  the  port  he  learnt  that  the  young  king  with  a  body  of 
troops  was  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  he  sent  on  shore  to 
ask  permission  to  land.     The  Egyptians  had  already  heard 


B.  c.  48]  DEATH   OF  POMPEY  363 

of  Pharsalia.  Civil  war  among  the  Romans  was  an  op- 
portunity for  them  to  assert  their  independence,  or  to  se- 
cure their  hberties  by  taking  the  side  which  seemed  most 
likely  to  be  successful.  Lentulus  had  already  arrived,  and 
had  been  imprisoned — a  not  natural  return  for  the  murder 
of  Dion  and  his  fellow-citizens.  Pompey,  whose  name 
more  than  that  of  any  other  Roman  was  identified  with 
their  sufferings,  was  now  placing  himself  spontaneously 
in  their  hands.  Why,  by  sparing  him,  should  they  neglect 
the  opportunity  of  avenging  their  own  wrongs,  and  of 
earning,  as  they  might  suppose  that  they  would,  the  last- 
ing gratitude  of  Caesar?  The  Roman  garrison  had  no  feel- 
ing for  their  once  glorious  commander.  "  In  calamity," 
Caesar  observes,  "  friends  easily  become  foes."  The  guar- 
dians of  the  young  king  sent  a  smooth  answer,  bidding 
Pompey  welcome.  The  water  being  shallow,  they  de- 
spatched Achillas,  a  prefect  in  the  king's  army,  and  Sep- 
timius,  a  Roman  officer,  whom  Pompey  personally  knew, 
with  a  boat  to  conduct  him  on  shore.  His  wife  and  friends 
distrusted  the  tone  of  the  reception,  and  begged  him  to 
wait  till  he  could  land  with  his  own  guard.  The  presence 
of  Septimius  gave  Pompey  confidence.  Weak  men,  when 
in  difficulties,  fall  into  a  kind  of  despairing  fatalism,  as  if 
tired  of  contending  longer  with  adverse  fortune.  Pom- 
pey stepped  into  the  boat,  and  when  out  of  arrow-shot 
from  the  ship  was  murdered  under  his  wife's  eyes.  His 
head  was  cut  off  and  carried  away.  His  body  was  left  lying 
on  the  sands.  A  man  who  had  been  once  his  slave,  and 
had  been  set  free  by  him,  gathered  a  few  sticks  and  burnt 
it  there;  and  thus  the  last  rites  were  bestowed  upon  one 
whom,  a  few  months  before,  Caesar  himself  would  have 
been  content  to  acknowledge  as  his  superior. 

So  ended  Pompey  the  Great.  History  has  dealt  tenderly 
with  him  on  account  of  his  misfortunes,  and  has  not  re- 
fused him  deserved  admiration  for  qualities  as  rare  in  his 
age  as  they  were  truly  excellent.  His  capacities  as  a  sol- 
dier were  not  extraordinary.  He  had  risen  to  distinction 
by  his  honesty.     The  pirates  who  had  swept  the  Mediter- 


364  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  48 

ranean  had  bought  their  impunity  by  a  tribute  paid  to 
senators  and  governors.  They  were  suppressed  instantly 
when  a  commander  was  sent  against  them  whom  they  were 
unable  to  bribe.  The  conquest  of  Asia  was  no  less  easy  to 
a  man  who  could  resist  temptations  to  enrich  himself. 
The  worst  enemy  of  Pompey  never  charged  him  with  cor- 
ruption or  rapacity.  So  far  as  he  was  himself  concerned, 
the  restoration  of  Ptolemy  was  gratuitous,  for  he  received 
nothing  for  it.  His  private  fortune  when  he  had  the  world 
at  his  feet  was  never  more  than  moderate;  nor  as  a  poli- 
tician did  his  faults  extend  beyond  weakness  and  incompe- 
tence. Unfortunately  he  had  acquired  a  position  by  his 
negative  virtues  which  was  above  his  natural  level,  and 
misled  him  into  overestimating  his  capabilities.  So  long 
as  he  stood  by  Caesar  he  had  maintained  his  honour  and 
his  authority.  He  allowed  men  more  cunning  than  him- 
self to  play  upon  his  vanity,  and  Pompey  fell — fell  amidst 
the  ruins  of  a  constitution  which  had  been  undermined  by 
the  villainies  of  his  representatives.  His  end  was  piteous, 
but  scarcely  tragic,  for  the  cause  to  which  he  was  sacrificed 
w^as  too  slightly  removed  from  being  ignominious.  He 
was  no  Phoebus  Apollo  sinking  into  the  ocean,  surrounded 
with  glory.  He  was  not  even  a  brilliant  meteor.  He  was 
a  weak  good  man,  whom  accident  had  thrust  into  a  place 
to  which  he  was  unequal;  and  ignorant  of  himself,  and  un- 
wiUing  to  part  with  his  imaginary  greatness,  he  was  flung 
down  with  careless  cruelty  by  the  forces  which  were 
dividing  the  world.  His  friend  Lentulus  shared  his  fate, 
and  was  killed  a  few  days  later,  while  Pompey's  ashes  were 
still  smoking.  Two  of  Bibulus's  sons,  who  had  accom- 
panied him,  were  murdered  as  well. 

Caesar  meanwhile  had  followed  along  Pompey's  track, 
hoping  to  overtake  him.  In  Cilicia  he  heard  where  he  was 
gone;  and  learning  something  more  accurately  there  of 
the  state  of  Egypt,  he  took  two  legions  with  him,  one  of 
which  had  attended  him  from  Pharsalia,  and  another  which 
he  had  sent  for  from  Achaia.  With  these  he  sailed  for  Alex- 
andria.    Together,  so  much  had  they  been  thinned  by  hard 


B.  c.  48]  REVOLT  IN  ALEXANDRIA  .  365 

service,  these  legions  mustered  between  them  Httle  over 
3000  men.  The  force  was  small,  but  Caesar  considered 
that,  after  Pharsalia,  there  could  be  no  danger  for  him 
anywhere  in  the  Mediterranean.  He  landed  without  op- 
position, and  was  presented  on  his  arrival,  as  a  supposed 
welcome  offering,  with  the  head  of  his  rival.  Politically 
it  would  have  been  better  far  for  him  to  have  returned  to 
Rome  with  Pompey  as  a  friend.  Nor,  if  it  had  been  cer- 
tain that  Pompey  would  have  refused  to  be  reconciled, 
were  services  such  as  this  a  road  to  Caesar's  favour.  The 
Alexandrians  speedily  found  that  they  were  not  to  be  re- 
warded with  the  desired  independence.  The  consular 
fasces,  the  emblem  of  the  hated  Roman  authority,  were 
carried  openly  before  Caesar  when  he  appeared  in  the 
streets;  and  it  was  not  long  before  mobs  began  to  assemble 
with  cries  that  Egypt  was  a  free  country,  and  that  the 
people  would  not  allow  their  king  to  be  insulted.  Evi- 
dently there  was  business  to  be  done  in  Egypt  before 
Caesar  could  leave  it.  Delay  was  specially  inconvenient. 
A  prolonged  absence  from  Italy  would  allow  faction  time 
to  rally  again.  But  Caesar  did  not  look  on  himself  as  the 
leader  of  a  party,  but  as  the  guardian  of  Roman  interests, 
and  it  was  not  his  habit  to  leave  any  necessary  work  un- 
completed. The  Etesian  winds,  too,  had  set  in,  which  made 
it  difficult  for  his  heavy  vessels  to  work  out  of  the  harbour. 
Seeing  that  troubles  might  rise,  he  sent  a  message  to  Mith- 
ridates  of  Pergamus,^  to  bring  reinforcements  from  Syria, 
while  he  himself  at  once  took  the  government  of  Egypt 
into  his  hands.  He  forbade  the  Alexandrians  to  set  aside 
Ptolemy's  will,  and  insisted  that  the  sovereignty  must  be 
vested  jointly  in  Cleopatra  and  her  brother  as  their  father 
had  ordered.^  The  cries  of  discontent  grew  bolder. 
Alexandria  was  a  large,  populous  city,  the  common  re- 
ceptacle of  vagabonds  from  all  parts  of  the  Mediterranean. 
Pirates,  thieves,  political  exiles,  and  outlaws  had  taken 
refuge  there,  and  had  been  received  into  the  king's  service. 
With  the  addition  of  the  dissolute  legionaries  left  by  Ga- 
binius,  they  made  up  20,000  as  dangerous  ruffians  as  had 


366  JULIUS   CiESAR  [B.  c.  48 

ever  been  gathered  into  a  single  city.  The  more  respect- 
able citizens  had  no  reason  to  love  the  Romans.  The  fate 
of  Cyprus  seemed  a  foreshadowing  of  their  own.  They, 
too,  unless  they  looked  to  themselves,  would  be  absorbed 
in  the  devouring  Empire.  They  had  made  an  end  of  Pom- 
pey,  and  Caesar  had  shown  no  gratitude.  Caesar  himself 
was  now  in  their  hands.  Till  the  wind  changed  they 
thought  that  he  could  not  escape,  and  they  were  tempted, 
naturally  enough,  to  use  the  chance  which  fate  had  given 
them. 

Pothinus,  a  palace  eunuch  and  one  of  young  Ptolemy's 
guardians,  sent  secretly  for  the  troops  at  Pelusium,  and 
gave  the  command  to  Achillas,  the  officer  who  had  mur- 
dered Pompey.  The  city  rose  when  they  came  in,  and 
Caesar  found  himself  blockaded  in  the  palace  and  the  part 
of  the  city  which  joined  the  outer  harbour.  The  situation 
was  irritating  from  its  absurdity,  but  more  or  less  it  was 
really  dangerous.  The  Egyptian  fleet  which  had  been  sent 
to  Greece  in  aid  of  Pompey  had  come  back,  and  was  in 
the  inner  basin.  It  outnumbered  Caesar's,  and  the  Alex- 
andrians were  the  best  seamen  in  the  Mediterranean.  If 
they  came  out,  they  might  cut  his  communications. 
Without  hesitation  he  set  fire  to  the  docks;  burnt  or  dis- 
abled the  greater  part  of  the  ships;  seized  the  Pharos  and 
the  mole  which  connected  it  with  the  town;  fortified  the 
palace  and  the  line  of  houses  occupied  by  his  troops;  and 
in  this  position  he  remained  for  several  weeks,  defending 
himself  against  the  whole  power  of  Egypt.  Of  the  time 
in  which  legend  describes  him  as  abandoned  to  his  love  for 
Cleopatra,  there  was  hardly  an  hour  of  either  day  or  night 
in  which  he  was  not  fighting  for  his  very  life.  The  Alex- 
andrians were  ingenious  and  indefatigable.  They  pumped 
the  sea  into  the  conduits  which  supplied  his  quarters  with 
water,  for  a  moment  it  seemed  with  fatal  effect.  Fresh 
water  was  happily  found  by  sinking  wells.  They  made  a 
new  fleet;  old  vessels  on  the  stocks  were  launched,  others 
were  brought  down  from  the  canals  on  the  river.  They 
made  oars  and  spars  out  of  the  benches  and  tables  of  the 


B.  c.  48-47]  REVOLT  IN  ALEXANDRIA  36/ 

professors'  lecture  rooms.  With  these  they  made  desper- 
ate attempts  to  retake  the  mole.  Once  with  a  sudden  rush 
they  carried  a  ship,  in  which  Caesar  was  present  in  person, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  swim  for  his  Hfe.^  Still  he  held  on, 
keeping  up  his  men's  spirits,  and  knowing  that  relief  must 
arrive  in  time.  He  was  never  greater  than  in  unlooked- 
for  difificulties.  He  never  rested.  He  was  always  invent- 
ing some  new  contrivance.  He  could  have  retired  from 
the  place  with  no  serious  loss.  He  could  have  taken  to 
his  ships  and  forced  his  way  to  sea  in  spite  of  the  winds  and 
the  Alexandrians.  But  he  felt  that  to  fly  from  such  an 
enemy  would  dishonour  the  Roman  name,  and  he  would 
not  entertain  the  thought  of  it. 

The  Egyptians  made  desperate  efforts  to  close  the  har- 
bour. Finding  that  they  could  neither  capture  the  Pharos 
nor  make  an  impression  on  Caesar's  lines,  they  affected  to 
desire  peace.  Caesar  had  kept  young  Ptolemy  with  him  as 
a  security.  They  petitioned  that  he  should  be  given  up  to 
them,  promising  on  compliance  to  discontinue  their  as- 
saults. Caesar  did  not  believe  them.  But  the  boy  was  of 
no  use  to  him,  the  army  wished  him  gone,  for  they  thought 
him  treacherous,  and  his  presence  would  not  strengthen 
the  enemy.  Caesar,  says  Hirtius,  considered  that  it  would 
be  more  respectable  to  be  fighting  with  a  king  than  with 
a  gang  of  ruffians.  Young  Ptolemy  was  released,  and 
joined  his  countrymen,  and  the  war  went  on  more  fiercely 
than  before.  Pompey's  murderers  were  brought  to  justice 
in  the  course  of  it.  Pothinus  fell  into  Caesar's  hands,  and 
was  executed.  Ganymede,  another  eunuch,  assassinated 
Achillas,  and  took  his  place  as  commander-in-chief.  Re- 
inforcements began  to  come  in.  Mithridates  had  not  yet 
been  heard  of;  but  Domitius  Calvinus,  who  had  been  left 
in  charge  of  Asia  Minor,  and  to  whom  Caesar  had  also  sent, 
had  despatched  two  legions  to  him.  One  arrived  by  sea  at 
Alexandria,  and  was  brought  in  with  some  difficulty.  The 
other  was  sent  by  land,  and  did  not  arrive  in  time  to  be  of 
service.  There  was  a  singular  irony  in  Caesar  being  left  to 
struggle  for  months  with  a  set  of  miscreants,  but  the  trial 


3^8  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.C.  47 

came  to  an  end  at  last.  Mithridates,  skilful,  active,  and  faith- 
ful, had  raised  a  force  with  extraordinary  rapidity  in  Cilicia 
and  on  the  Euphrates.  He  had  marched  swiftly  through 
Syria;  and  in  the  beginning  of  the  new  year  Caesar  heard 
the  welcome  news  that  he  had  reached  Pelusium,  and  had 
taken  it  by  storm.  Not  delaying  for  a  day,  Mithridates 
had  gone  up  the  bank  of  the  Nile  to  Cairo.  A  division  of 
the  Egyptian  army  lay  opposite  to  him,  in  the  face  of  whom 
he  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  attempt  to  cross,  and  from 
thence  he  sent  word  of  his  position  to  Caesar.  The  news 
reached  Caesar  and  the  Alexandrians  at  the  same  moment. 
The  Alexandrians  had  the  easiest  access  to  the  scene. 
They  had  merely  to  ascend  the  river  in  their  boats.  Caesar 
was  obliged  to  go  round  by  sea  to  Pelusium,  and  to  follow 
the  course  which  Mithridates  had  taken  himself.  Rapidity 
of  movement  made  up  the  difference.  Taking  with  him 
such  cohorts  as  could  be  spared  from  his  lines,  Caesar  had 
joined  Mithridates  before  the  Alexandrians  had  arrived. 
Together  they  forced  the  passage;  and  Ptolemy  came  only 
for  his  camp  to  be  stormed,  his  army  to  be  cut  to  pieces, 
and  himself  to  be  drowned  in  the  Nile,  and  so  end  his  brief 
and  miserable  life. 

Alexandria  immediately  capitulated.  Arsinoe,  the 
youngest  sister,  was  sent  to  Rome.  Cleopatra  and  her 
surviving  brother  were  made  joint  sovereigns,  and  Roman 
rumour,  glad  to  represent  Caesar's  actions  in  monstrous 
characters,  insisted  in  after  years  that  they  were  married. 
The  absence  of  contemporary  authority  for  the  story  pre- 
cludes also  the  possibility  of  denying  it.  Two  legions  were 
left  in  Egypt  to  protect  them  if  they  were  faithful,  or  to 
coerce  them  if  they  misconducted  themselves.  The  Alex- 
andrian episode  was  over,  and  Caesar  sailed  for  Syria.  His 
long  detention  over  a  complication  so  insignificant  had 
been  unfortunate  in  many  ways.  Scipio  and  Cato,  with 
the  other  fugitives  from  Pharsalia,  had  rallied  in  Africa, 
under  the  protection  of  Juba.  Italy  was  in  confusion. 
The  popular  party,  now  absolutely  in  the  ascendant, 
were  disposed  to  treat  the  aristocracy  as  the  aristocracy 


B.  c.  47]  FRESH   DISORDERS  369 

would  have  treated  them  had  they  been  victorious. 
The  controUing  hand  was  absent;  the  rich,  long  hated  and 
envied,  were  in  the  power  of  the  multitude,  and  wild 
measures  were  advocated,  communistic,  socialistic,  such  as 
are  always  heard  of  in  revolutions,  meaning  in  one  form  or 
another  the  equalization  of  wealth,  the  division  of  property, 
the  poor  taking  their  turn  on  the  upper  crest  of  fortune 
and  the  rich  at  the  bottom.  The  tribunes  were  outbidding 
one  another  in  extravagant  proposals,  while  Caesar's  legions, 
sent  home  from  Greece,  to  rest  after  their  long  service, 
were  enjoying  their  victory  in  the  license  which  is  miscalled 
liberty.  They  demanded  the  lands,  or  rewards  in  money, 
which  had  been  promised  them  at  the  end  of  the  war.  Dis- 
cipline was  relaxed  or  abandoned.  Their  officers  were 
unable,  perhaps  unwilling,  to  control  them.  They  too  re- 
garded the  Commonwealth  as  a  spoil  which  their  swords 
had  won,  and  which  they  were  entitled  to  distribute  among 
themselves.  * 

In  Spain,  too,  a  bad  feeling  had  revived.  After  Caesar's 
departure  his  generals  had  oppressed  the  people,  and  had 
quarrelled  with  one  another.  The  country  was  disorgan- 
ized and  disaffected.  In  Spain,  as  in  Egypt,  there  was  a 
national  party  still  dreaming  of  independence.  The 
smouldering  traditions  of  Sertorius  were  blown  into  flame 
by  the  continuance  of  the  civil  war.  The  proud  motley 
race  of  Spaniards,  Italians,  Gauls,  indigenous  mountain- 
eers. Moors  from  Africa,  the  remnants  of  the  Carthaginian 
colonies,  however  they  might  hate  one  another,  yet  united 
in  resenting  an  uncertain  servitude  under  the  alternate 
ascendency  of  Roman  factions.  Spain  was  ripe  for  revolt. 
Gaul  alone,  Caesar's  own  province,  rewarded  him  for  the 
use  which  he  had  made  of  his  victory,  by  unswerving 
loyalty  and  obedience. 

On  his  landing  in  Syria,  Caesar  found  letters  pressing  for 

his   instant   return   to   Rome.     Important   persons   were 

waiting  to  give  him  fuller  information  than  could  be  safely 

committed  to  writing.     He  would  have  hastened  home  at 

once,  but  restless  spirits  had  been  let  loose  everywhere  by 
-4 


370  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  47 

the  conflict  of  the  Roman  leaders.  Disorder  had  broken 
out  near  at  hand.  The  still  recent  defeat  of  Crassus  had 
stirred  the  ambition  of  the  Asiatic  princes;  and  to  leave  the 
Eastern  frontier  disturbed  was  to  risk  a  greater  danger  to 
the  Empire  than  was  to  be  feared  from  the  impatient  poli- 
tics of  the  Roman  mob,  or  the  dying  convulsions  of  the 
aristocracy. 

Pharnaces,  a  legitimate  son  of  Mithridates  the  Great, 
had  been  left  sovereign  of  Upper  Armenia.  He  had 
watched  the  collision  between  Pompey  and  Caesar  with  a 
neutrality  which  was  to  plead  for  him  with  the  conqueror, 
and  he  had  intended  to  make  his  own  advantage  out  of  the 
quarrels  between  his  father's  enemies.  Deiotarus,  tribu- 
tary king  of  Lower  Armenia  and  Colchis,  had  given  some 
help  to  Pompey,  and  had  sent  him  men  and  money;  and 
on  Pompey's  defeat,  Pharnaces  had  supposed  that  he  might 
seize  on  Deiotarus's  territories  without  fear  of  Csesar's 
resentment.  Deiotarus  had  applied  to  Domitius  Calvinus 
for  assistance;  which  Calvinus,  weakened  as  he  was  by  the 
despatch  of  two  of  his  legions  to  Egypt,  had  been  imper- 
fectly able  to  give.  Pharnaces  had  advanced  into  Cappado- 
cia.  When  Calvinus  ordered  him  to  retire,  he  had  replied 
by  sending  presents,  which  had  hitherto  proved  so  effective 
with  Roman  proconsuls,  and  by  an  equivocating  profession 
of  readiness  to  abide  by  Caesar's  decision.  Pharnaces 
came  of  a  dangerous  race.  Caesar's  lieutenant  was  afraid 
that,  if  he  hesitated,  the  son  of  Mithridates  might  become 
as  troublesome  as  his  father  had  been.  He  refused  the 
presents.  Disregarding  his  weakness,  he  sent  a  peremp- 
tory command  to  Pharnaces  to  fall  back  within  his  own 
frontiers,  and  advanced  to  compel  him  if  he  refused.  In 
times  of  excitement  the  minds  of  men  are  electric,  and 
news  travels  with  telegraphic  rapidity  if  not  with  tele- 
graphic accuracy.  Pharnaces  heard  that  Caesar  was  shut 
up  in  Alexandria,  and  was  in  a  position  of  extreme  danger, 
that  he  had  sent  for  all  his  Asiatic  legions,  and  that  Cal- 
vinus had  himself  been  summoned  to  his  assistance.  Thus 
he  thought  that  he  might  safely  postpone  compliance  till 


B.  c.  47]  PHARNACES  3/1 

the  Roman  army  was  gone,  and  he  had  the  country  to  him- 
self. The  reports  from  Egypt  were  so  unfavourable,  that, 
although  as  yet  he  had  received  no  positive  orders,  Cal- 
vinus  was  in  daily  expectation  that  he  would  be  obliged  to 
go.  It  would  be  unsafe,  he  thought,  to  leave  an  insolent 
barbarian  unchastised.  He  had  learnt  in  Caesar's  school 
to  strike  quickly.  He  had  not  learnt  the  comparison  be- 
tween means  and  ends,  without  which  celerity  is  impru- 
dence. He  had  but  one  legion  left;  but  he  had  a  respectable 
number  of  Asiatic  auxiliaries,  and  with  them  he  ventured 
to  attack  Pharnaces  in  an  intricate  position.  His  Asiatics 
deserted.  The  legion  behaved  admirably;  but  in  the  face 
of  overwhelming  numbers,  it  could  do  no  more  than  cut 
its  way  to  security.  Pharnaces  at  once  reclaimed  his 
father's  kingdom,  and  overran  Pontus,  killing,  mutilating, 
or  imprisoning  every  Roman  that  he  encountered;  and  in 
this  condition  Caesar  found  Asia  Minor  on  his  coming  to 
Syria. 

It  was  not  in  Caesar's  character  to  leave  a  Roman  prov- 
ince behind  him  in  the  hands  of  an  invader,  for  his  own 
political  interests.  He  saw  that  he  must  punish  Pharnaces 
before  he  returned  to  Rome,  and  he  immediately  addressed 
himself  to  the  work.  He  made  a  hasty  progress  through 
the  Syrian  towns,  hearing  complaints  and  distributing  re- 
wards and  promotions.  The  allied  chiefs  came  to  him 
from  the  borders  of  the  province  to  pay  their  respects. 
He  received  them  graciously,  and  dismissed  them  pleased 
and  satisfied.  After  a  few  days  spent  thus,  he  sailed  for 
Cilicia,  held  a  council  at  Tarsus,  and  then  crossed  the 
Taurus,  and  went  by  forced  marches  through  Cappadocia 
to  Pontus.  He  received  a  legion  from  Deiotarus  which 
had  been  organized  in  Roman  fashion.  He  sent  to  Cal- 
vinus  to  meet  him  with  the  survivors  of  his  lost  battle;  and 
when  they  arrived,  he  reviewed  the  force  which  was  at  his 
disposition.  It  was  not  satisfactory.  He  had  brought  a 
veteran  legion  with  him  from  Egypt,  but  it  was  reduced  to 
a  thousand  strong.  He  had  another  which  he  had  taken 
up  in  Syria;  but  even  this  did  not  raise  his  army  to  a  point 


372  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  47 

which  could  assure  him  of  success.  But  time  pressed,  and 
skill  might  compensate  for  defective  numbers. 

Pharnaces,  hearing  that  Csesar  was  at  hand,  promised 
submission.  He  sent  Csesar  a  golden  crown,  in  anticipa- 
tion perhaps  that  he  was  about  to  make  himself  king.  He 
pleaded  his  desertion  of  Pompey  as  a  set-off  against  his 
faults.  Caesar  answered  that  he  would  accept  the  submis- 
sion, if  it  were  sincere;  but  Pharnaces  must  not  suppose 
that  good  offices  to  himself  could  atone  for  injuries  to  the 
Empire.*  The  provinces  which  he  had  invaded  must  be 
instantly  evacuated;  his  Roman  prisoners  must  be  released, 
and  their  property  must  be  restored  to  them. 

Pharnaces  was  a  poHtician,  and  knew  enough  of  Caesar's 
circumstances  to  mislead  him.  The  state  of  Rome  re- 
quired Caesar's  presence.  A  campaign  in  Asia  would 
occupy  more  time  than  he  could  afford,  and  Pharnaces  cal- 
culated that  he  must  be  gone  in  a  few  days  or  weeks.  The 
victory  over  Calvinus  had  strengthened  his  ambition  of 
emulating  his  father.  He  delayed  his  answer,  shifted  from 
place  to  place,  and  tried  to  protract  the  correspondence  till 
Caesar's  impatience  to  be  gone  should  bring  him  to  agree 
to  a  compromise. 

Caesar  cut  short  negotiations.  Pharnaces  was  at  Zela, 
a  town  in  the  midst  of  mountains  behind  Trebizond,  and 
the  scene  of  a  great  victory  which  had  been  won  by  Mith- 
ridates  over  the  Romans.  Caesar  defied  auguries.  He 
seized  a  position  at  night  on  the  brow  of  a  hill  directly 
opposite  to  the  Armenian  camp,  and  divided  from  it  by  a 
narrow  valley.  As  soon  as  day  broke  the  legions  were 
busy  intrenching  with  their  spades  and  pickaxes.  Phar- 
naces, with  the  rashness  which  if  it  fails  is  madness,  and  if 
it  succeeds  is  the  intuition  of  genius,  decided  to  fall  on  them 
at  a  moment  when  no  sane  person  could  rationally  expect 
an  attack;  and  Caesar  could  not  restrain  his  astonishment 
when  he  saw  the  enemy  pouring  down  the  steep  side  of  the 
ravine,  and  breasting  the  ascent  on  which  he  stood.  It 
was  like  the  battle  of  Maubeuge  over  again,  with  the  dif- 
ference that  he  had  here  to  deal  with  Asiatics,  and  not  with 


B.  c.  47]  DEFEAT   OF   PHARNACES  373 

the  Nervii.  There  was  some  confusion  while  the  legions 
were  exchanging  their  digging  tools  for  their  arms.  When 
the  exchange  had  been  made,  there  was  no  longer  a  battle, 
but  a  rout.  The  Armenians  were  hurled  back  down  the 
hill,  and  slaughtered  in  masses  at  the  bottom  of  it.  The 
camp  was  taken.  Pharnaces  escaped  for  the  moment,  and 
made  his  way  into  his  own  country;  but  he  was  killed  im- 
mediately after,  and  Asia  Minor  was  again  at  peace. 

Caesar,  calm  as  usual,  but  well  satisfied  to  have  ended  a 
second  awkward  business  so  easily,  passed  quickly  down  to 
the  Hellespont,  and  had  landed  in  Italy  before  it  was 
known  that  he  had  left  Pontus. 

Notes 

*  Page  365.  Supposed  to  have  been  a  natural  son  of  Mithridates  the 
Great.  The  reason  for  the  special  confidence  which  Caesar  placed  in 
him  does  not  appear.  The  danger  of  Alexandria,  perhaps,  did  not  ap- 
pear at  the  moment  particularly  serious. 

2  Page  365.  Roman  scandal  discovered  afterwards  that  Caesar  had 
been  fascinated  by  the  charms  of  Cleopatra,  and  allowed  his  politics  to 
be  influenced  by  a  love  affair.  Roman  fashionable  society  hated  Caesar, 
and  any  carrion  was  welcome  to  them  which  would  taint  his  reputation. 
Cleopatra  herself  favoured  the  story,  and  afterwards  produced  a  child, 
whom  she  named  Caesarion.  Oppius,  Caesar's  most  intimate  friend, 
proved  that  the  child  could  not  have  been  his— of  course,  therefore, 
that  the  intrigue  was  a  fable  ;  and  the  boy  was  afterwards  put  to  death 
by  Augustus  as  an  impostor.  No  one  claims  immaculate  virtue  for 
Caesar.  An  amour  with  Cleopatra  may  have  been  an  accident  of  his 
presence  in  Alexandria.  But  to  suppose  that  such  a  person  as  Caesar, 
with  the  concerns  of  the  world  upon  his  hands,  would  have  allowed  his 
public  action  to  be  governed  by  a  connection  with  a  loose  girl  of  six- 
teen is  to  make  too  large  a  demand  upon  human  credulity  ;  nor  is  it 
likely  that,  in  a  situation  of  so  much  danger  and  difficulty  as  that  in 
which  he  found  himself,  he  would  have  added  to  his  embarrassments  by 
indulging  in  an  intrigue.  The  report  proves  nothing,  for  whether  true 
or  false  it  was  alike  certain  to  arise.  The  salons  of  Rome,  like  the 
salons  of  London  and  Paris,  took  their  revenge  on  greatness  by  soiling 
it  with  filth  ;  and  happily  Suetonius,  the  chief  authority  for  the  scandal, 
couples  it  with  a  story  which  is  demonstrably  false.  He  says  that 
Caesar  made  a  long  expedition  with  Cleopatra  in  a  barge  upon  the  Nile, 
that  he  was  so  fascinated  with  her  that  he  wished  to  extend  his  voyage 
to  Ethiopia,  and  was  prevented  only  by  the  refusal  of  his  army  to  fol- 
low him.  The  details  of  Caesar's  stay  at  Alexandria,  so  minutely  given 
by  Hirtius,  show  that  there  was  not  a  moment  when  such  an  expedi- 


374  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  47 

tion  could  have  been  contemplated.  During  the  greater  part  of  the 
time  he  was  blockaded  in  the  palace.  Immediately  after  the  insurrec- 
tion was  put  down,  he  was  obliged  to  hurry  off  on  matters  of  instant 
and  urgent  moment.  Of  the  story  of  Cleopatra's  presence  in  Rome  at 
the  time  of  his  murder,  more  will  be  said  hereafter. 

2  Page  367.  Legend  is  more  absurd  than  usual  over  this  incident.  It 
pretends  that  he  swam  with  one  hand,  and  carried  his  Commentaries, 
holding  them  above  water,  with  the  other.  As  if  a  general  would  take 
his  manuscripts  with  him  into  a  hot  action  ! 

*  Page  372.  "Neque  provinciarum  injurias  condonari  iis  posse  qui 
fuissent  in  se  officiosi." — De  Bello  Alexandrino,  70. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

CICERO  considered  that  the  Civil  War  ought  to 
have  ended  with  Pharsalia;  and  in  this  opinion 
most  reasonable  men  among  the  conservatives 
were  agreed.  They  had  fought  one  battle;  and  it  had  gone 
against  them.  To  continue  the  struggle  might  tear  the 
Empire  to  pieces,  but  could  not  retrieve  a  lost  cause;  and 
prudence  and  patriotism  alike  recommended  submission  to 
the  verdict  of  fortune.  It  is  probable  that  this  would  have 
been  the  result,  could  Caesar  have  returned  to  Italy  imme- 
diately after  his  victory.  Cicero  himself  refused  to  partici- 
pate in  further  resistance.  Cato  offered  him  a  command 
at  Corcyra,  but  he  declined  it  with  a  shudder,  and  went 
back  to  Brindisi;  and  all  but  those  whose  consciences  for- 
bade them  to  hope  for  pardon,  or  who  were  too  proud  to 
ask  for  it,  at  first  followed  his  example.  Scipio,  Cato,  La- 
bienus,  Afranius,  Petreius,  were  resolute  to  fight  on  to  the 
last;  but  even  they  had  no  clear  outlook,  and  they 
wandered  about  the  Mediterranean,  uncertain  what  to  do, 
or  whither  to  turn.  Time  went  on,  however,  and  Caesar 
did  not  appear.  Rumour  said  at  one  time  that  he  was  de- 
stroyed at  Alexandria.  The  defeat  of  Calvinus  by  Phar- 
naces  was  an  ascertained  fact.  Spain  was  in  confusion. 
The  legions  in  Italy  were  disorganized,  and  society,  or  the 
wealthy  part  of  society,  threatened  by  the  enemies  of  prop- 
erty, began  to  call  for  someone  to  save  it.  All  was  not 
lost.  Pompey's  best  generals  were  still  living.  His  sons, 
Sextus  and  Cnaeus,  were  brave  and  able.  The  fleet  was  de- 
voted to  them  and  to  their  father's  cause,  and  Caesar's 
officers  had  failed,  in  his  absence,  to  raise  a  naval  force 
which  could  show  upon  the  sea.  Africa  was  a  convenient 
rallying  point.     Since  Curio's  defeat,  King  Juba  had  found 

375 


376  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  47 

no  one  to  dispute  his  supremacy,  and  between  Juba  and  the 
aristocracy  who  were  bent  on  persisting  in  the  war  an  alH- 
ance  was  easily  formed.  While  Caesar  was  perilling  his 
own  interest  to  remain  in  Asia  to  crush  Pharnaces,  Me- 
tellus  Scipio  was  offering  a  barbarian  chief  the  whole  of 
Roman  Africa  as  the  price  of  his  assistance,  in  a  last  effort 
to  reverse  the  fortune  of  Pharsalia.  Under  these  scanda- 
lous conditions,  Scipio,  Labienus,  Cato,  Afranius,  Petreius, 
Faustus  Sylla  the  son  of  the  Dictator,  Lucius  Caesar,  and 
the  rest  of  the  irreconcilables  made  Africa  their  new  centre 
of  operations.  Here  they  gathered  to  themselves  the  in- 
heritors of  the  Syllan  traditions,  and  made  raids  on  the 
Italian  coasts  and  into  Sicily  and  Sardinia.  Seizing 
Caesar's  officers  w^hen  they  could  find  them,  they  put  them 
invariably  to  death  without  remorse.  Cicero  protested 
honourably  against  the  employment  of  treacherous  sav- 
ages, even  for  so  sacred  a  cause  as  the  defence  of  the  con- 
stitution;^ but  Cicero  was  denounced  as  a  traitor  seeking 
favour  with  the  conqueror,  and  the  desperate  work  went 
on.  Caesar's  long  detention  in  the  East  gave  the  confeder- 
ates time.  The  young  Pompeys  were  strong  at  sea. 
From  Italy  there  was  an  easy  passage  for  adventurous  dis- 
affection. The  shadow  of  a  Pompeian  Senate  sat  once 
more,  passing  resolutions,  at  Utica;  while  Cato  was  busy 
organizing  an  army,  and  had  collected  as  many  as  thirteen 
legions  out  of  the  miscellaneous  elements  which  drifted  in 
to  him.  Caesar  had  sent  orders  to  Cassius  Longinus  to 
pass  into  Africa  from  Spain,  and  break  up  these  combina- 
tions; but  Longinus  had  been  at  war  with  his  own  pro- 
vincials. He  had  been  driven  out  of  the  Peninsula,  and 
had  lost  his  own  life  in  leaving  it.  Caesar,  like  Cicero,  had 
believed  that  the  war  had  ended  at  Pharsalia.  He  found 
that  the  heads  of  the  Hydra  had  sprouted  again,  and  were 
vomiting  the  old  fire  and  fury.  Little  interest  could  it  give 
Caesar  to  match  his  waning  years  against  the  blinded  hatred 
of  his  countrymen.  Ended  the  strife  must  be,  however, 
before  order  could  be  restored  in  Italy,  and  wretched  men 
take  up  again  the  quiet  round  of  industry. .    Heavy  work 


w 


B.C.  47]  ORDER  RESTORED   IN   ROME  377 

had  to  be  done  in  Rome.  Caesar  was  consul  now — annual 
consul,  with  no  ten  years'  interval  any  longer  possible. 
Consul,  Dictator,  whatever  name  the  people  gave  him,  he 
alone  held  the  reins;  he  alone  was  able  to  hold  them. 
Credit  had  to  be  restored;  debtors  had  to  be  brought  to 
recognise  their  liabilities.  Property  had  fallen  in  value 
since  the  Civil  Wars,  and  securities  had  to  be  freshly  esti- 
mated. The  Senate  required  reformation;  men  of  fidelity 
and  ability  were  wanted  for  the  public  offices.  Pompey 
and  Pompey's  friends  would  have  drowned  Italy  in  blood. 
Caesar  disappointed  expectation  by  refusing  to  punish  any 
one  of  his  political  opponents.  He  killed  no  one.  He 
deprived  no  one  of  his  property.  He  even  protected  the 
money-lenders,  and  made  the  Jews  his  constant  friends. 
Debts  he  insisted  must  be  paid,  bonds  fulfilled,  the  rights 
of  property  respected,  no  matter  what  wild  hopes  imagina- 
tion might  have  indulged  in.  Something  only  he  remitted 
of  the  severity  of  interest,  and  the  poor  in  the  city  were 
allowed  their  lodgings  rent  free  for  a  year. 

He  restored  quiet,  and  gave  as  much  satisfaction  as  cir- 
cumstances permitted.  His  real  difficulty  was  with  the 
legions,  who  had  come  back  from  Greece.  They  had  de- 
served admirably  well,  but  they  were  unfortunately  over- 
conscious  of  their  merits.  Ill-intentioned  officers  had 
taught  them  to  look  for  extravagant  rewards.  Their  ex- 
pectations had  not  been  fulfilled;  and  when  they  supposed 
that  their  labours  were  over  they  received  orders  to  prepare 
for  a  campaign  in  Africa.  Sallust  the  historian  was  in 
command  at  their  quarters  in  Campania.  They  mutinied, 
and  almost  killed  him.  He  fled  to  Rome.  The  soldiers 
of  the  favoured  Tenth  Legion  pursued  him  to  the  gates, 
and  demanded  speech  with  Caesar.  He  bade  them  come 
to  him,  and  with  his  usual  fearlessness  told  them  to  bring 
their  swords. 

The  army  was  Caesar's  life.  In  the  army  lay  the  future 
of  Rome,  if  Rome  was  to  have  a  future.  There,  if  any- 
where, the  national  spirit  survived.  It  was  a  trying  mo- 
ment; but  there  was  a  calmness  in  Caesar,  arising  from  a 


378  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  47 

profound  indifference  to  what  man  or  fortune  could  give 
or  take  from  him,  which  no  extremity  could  shake. 

The  legionaries  entered  the  city,  and  Caesar  directed 
them  to  state  their  complaints.  They  spoke  of  their  ser- 
vices and  their  sufferings.  They  said  that  they  had  been 
promised  rewards,  but  their  rewards  so  far  had  been  words, 
and  they  asked  for  their  discharge.  They  did  not  really 
wish  for  it.  They  did  not  expect  it.  But  they  supposed 
that  Caesar  could  not  dispense  with  them,  and  that  they 
might  dictate  their  own  terms. 

During  the  wars  in  Gaul,  Caesar  had  been  most  munifi- 
cent to  his  soldiers.  He  had  doubled  their  ordinary  pay. 
He  had  shared  the  spoils  of  his  conquests  with  them.  Time 
and  leisure  had  alone  been  wanting  to  him  to  recompense 
their  splendid  fidelity  in  the  campaigns  in  Spain  and 
Greece.  He  had  treated  them  as  his  children;  no  com- 
mander had  ever  been  more  careful  of  his  soldiers'  lives; 
when  addressing  the  army  he  had  called  them  always 
"  comilitones,"  "  comrades,"  "  brother-in-arms." 

The  familiar  word  was  now  no  longer  heard  from  him. 
''You  say  well,  Quirites,"  ^  he  answered;  "you  have 
laboured  hard,  and  you  have  suffered  much;  you  desire 
your  discharge — you  have  it.  I  discharge  you  who.  are 
present.  I  discharge  all  who  have  served  their  time. 
You  shall  have  your  recompense.  It  shall  never  be  said 
of  me  that  I  made  use  of  you  when  I  was  in  danger,  and 
was  ungrateful  to  you  when  the  peril  was  past." 

"  Quirites  "  he  had  called  them;  no  longer  Roman  leg- 
ionaries proud  of  their  achievements,  and  glorying  in  their 
great  commander,  but  "  Quirites  " — plain  citizens.  The 
sight  of  Caesar,  the  familiar  form  and  voice,  the  words, 
every  sentence  of  which  they  knew  that  he  meant,  cut  them 
to  the  heart.  They  were  humbled ;  they  begged  to  be  for- 
given. They  said  they  would  go  with  him  to  Africa,  or  to 
the  world's  end.  He  did  not  at  once  accept  their  peni- 
tence. He  told  them  that  lands  had  been  allotted  to  every 
soldier  out  of  the  ager  publicus,  or  out  of  his  own  personal 
estates.     Suetonius  says  that  the  sections  had  been  care- 


B.  C.  47-46]  CAMPAIGN  IN  AFRICA  379 

fully  taken  so  as  not  to  disturb  existing  occupants;  and 
thus  it  appeared  that  he  had  been  thinking  of  them  and 
providing  for  them  when  they  supposed  themselves  forgot- 
ten. Money,  too,  he  had  ready  for  each,  part  in  hand, 
part  in  bonds  bearing  interest  to  be  redeemed  when  the  war 
should  be  over.  Again,  passionately,  they  implored  to  be 
allowed  to  continue  with  him.  He  relented,  but  not  en- 
tirely. 

"  Let  all  go  who  wish  to  go,"  he  said;  "  I  will  have  none 
serve  with  me  who  serve  unwillingly." 

"  All,  all!  "  they  cried;  "  not  one  of  us  will  leave  you  " — 
and  not  one  went.  The  mutiny  was  the  greatest  peril,  per- 
haps, to  which  Caesar  had  ever  been  exposed.  No  more 
was  said;  but  Caesar  took  silent  notice  of  the  officers  who 
had  encouraged  the  discontented  spirit.  In  common 
things,  Dion  Cassius  says,  he  was  the  kindest  and  most 
considerate  of  commanders.  He  passed  lightly  over  small 
offences;  but  military  rebellion  in  those  who  were  really 
responsible  he  never  forgave. 

The  African  business  could  now  be  attended  to.  It  was 
again  midwinter.  Winter  campaigns  were  trying,  but 
Caesar  had  hitherto  found  them  answer  to  him,  the  enemy 
had  suffered  more  than  himself;  while,  as  long  as  an  op- 
position Senate  was  sitting  across  the  Mediterranean,  in- 
trigue and  conspiracy  made  security  impossible  at  home. 
Many  a  false  spirit  now  fawning  at  home  on  Caesar  was 
longing  for  his  destruction.  The  army  with  which  he 
would  have  to  deal  was  less  respectable  than  that  which 
Pompey  had  commanded  at  Durazzo,  but  it  was  numeri- 
cally as  strong  or  stronger.  Cato,  assisted  by  Labienus, 
had  formed  into  legions  sixty  thousand  Italians.  They 
had  a  hundred  and  twelve  elephants,  and  African  cavalry 
in  uncounted  multitudes.  Caesar  perhaps  despised  an 
enemy  too  much  whom  he  had  so  often  beaten.  He 
sailed  from  Lilybaeum  on  the  19th  of  December,  with  a 
mere  handful  of  men,  leaving  the  rest  of  his  troops  to  follow 
as  they  could.  No  rendezvous  had  been  positively  fixed, 
for  between  the  weather  and  the  enemy  it  was  uncertain 


38o  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  46 

where  the  troops  would  be  able  to  land,  and  the  gen- 
erals of  the  different  divisions  were  left  to  their  discretion. 
Caesar  on  arriving  seized  and  fortified  a  defensible  spot  at 
Ruspinum.^  The  other  legions  dropped  in  slowly,  and 
before  a  third  of  them  had  arrived  the  enemy  were  swarm- 
ing about  the  camp,  while  the  Pompeys  were  alert  on  the 
water  to  seize  stray  transports  or  provision  ships.  There 
was  skirmishing  every  day  in  front  of  Caesar's  lines.  The 
Numidian  horse  surrounded  his  thin  cohorts  like  swarms  of 
hornets.  Labienus  himself  rode  up  on  one  occasion  to  a 
battalion  which  was  standing  still  under  a  shower  of  ar- 
rows, and  asked  in  mockery  who  they  were.  A  soldier  of 
the  Tenth  Legion  lifted  his  cap,  that  his  face  might  be  rec- 
ognised, hurled  his  javelin  for  answer,  and  brought  La- 
bienus's  horse  to  the  ground.  But  courage  was  of  no 
avail  in  the  face  of  overwhelming  numbers.  Scipio's  army 
collected  faster  than  Caesar's,  and  Caesar's  young  soldiers 
showed  some  uneasiness  in  a  position  so  unexpected. 
Caesar,  however,  was  confident  and  in  high  spirits.*  Ro- 
man residents  in  the  African  province  came  gradually  in 
to  him,  and  some  African  tribes,  out  of  respect,  it  was  said, 
for  the  memory  of  Marius.  A  few  towns  declared  against 
the  Senate  in  indignation  at  Scipio's  promise  that  the 
province  was  to  be  abandoned  to  Juba.  Scipio  replied 
with  burning  the  Roman  country  houses  and  wasting  the 
lands,  and  still  killing  steadily  every  friend  of  Caesar  that 
he  could  lay  his  hands  on.  Caesar's  steady  clemency  had 
made  no  difference.  The  senatorial  faction  went  on  as 
they  had  begun,  till  at  length  their  ferocity  was  repaid 
upon  them. 

The  reports  from  the  interior  became  unbearable. 
Caesar  sent  an  impatient  message  to  Sicily  that,  storm  or 
calm,  the  remaining  legions  must  come  to  him,  or  not  a 
house  would  be  left  standing  in  the  province.  The  ofifi- 
cers  were  no  longer  what  they  had  been.  The  men  came, 
but  bringing  only  their  arms  and  tools,  without  change  of 
clothes  and  without  tents,  though  it  was  the  rainy  season. 
Good-will  and  good  hearts,  however,  made  up  for  other 


B.  c.  46]  BATTLE   OF  THAPSUS  38 1 

shortcomings.  Deserters  dropped  in  thick  from  the  Sen- 
ate's army.  King  Juba,  it  appeared,  had  joined  them,  and 
Roman  pride  had  been  outraged,  when  Juba  had  been 
seen  taking  precedence  in  the  council  of  war,  and  Metellus 
Scipio  exchanging  his  imperial  purple  in  the  royal  presence 
for  a  plain  dress  of  white. 

The  time  of  clemency  was  past.  Publius  Ligarius  was 
taken  in  a  skirmish.  He  had  been  one  of  the  captives  at 
Lerida  who  had  given  his  word  to  serve  no  further  in  the 
war.  He  was  tried  for  breaking  his  engagement,  and  was 
put  to  death.  Still  Scipio's  army  kept  the  field  in  full 
strength,  the  loss  by  desertions  being  made  up  by  fresh 
recruits  sent  from  Utica  by  Cato.  Csesar's  men  flinched 
from  facing  the  elephants,  and  time  was  lost  while  other 
elephants  were  fetched  from  Italy,  that  they  might  handle 
them  and  grow  famiUar  with  them.  Scipio  had  been 
taught  caution  by  the  fate  of  Pompey,  and  avoided  a  battle, 
and  thus  three  months  wore  away  before  a  decisive  impres- 
sion had  been  made.  But  the  clear  dark  eyes  of  the  con- 
queror of  Pharsalia  had  taken  the  measure  of  the  situation 
and  comprehended  the  features  of  it.  By  this  time  he  had 
an  effective  squadron  of  ships,  which  had  swept  off  Pom- 
pey's  cruisers;  and  if  Scipio  shrank  from  an  engagement  it 
was  possible  to  force  him  into  it.  A  division  of  Scipio's 
troops  were  in  the  peninsula  of  Thapsus.**  If  Thapsus  was 
blockaded  at  sea  and  besieged  by  land,  Scipio  would  be 
driven  to  come  to  its  relief,  and  would  have  to  fight  in  the 
open  country.  Caesar  occupied  the  neck  of  the  peninsula, 
and  the  result  was  what  he  knew  it  must  be.  Scipio  and 
Juba  came  down  out  of  the  hills  with  their  united  armies. 
Their  legions  w^ere  beginning  to  form  intrenchments,  and 
Caesar  was  leisurely  watching  their  operations,  when  at  the 
sight  of  the  enemy  an  irresistible  enthusiasm  ran  through 
his  lines.  The  cry  rose  for  instant  attack;  and  Caesar, 
yielding  unwillingly  to  the  universal  impulse,  sprang  on 
his  horse  and  led  the  charge  in  person.  There  was  no  real 
fighting.  The  elephants  which  Scipio  had  placed  in  front 
wheeled  about,  and  plunged  back  into  the  camp  trumpet- 


382  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  46 

ing  and  roaring.  The  vallum  was  carried  at  a  rush,  and 
afterwards  there  was  less  a  battle  than  a  massacre.  Offi- 
cers and  men  fled  for  their  lives  like  frightened  antelopes, 
or  flung  themselves  on  their  knees  for  mercy.  This  time 
no  mercy  was  shown.  The  deliberate  cruelty  with  which 
the  war  had  been  carried  on  had  done  its  work  at  last. 
The  troops  were  savage,  and  killed  every  man  that  they 
overtook.  Caesar  tried  to  check  the  carnage,  but  his 
efforts  were  unavailing.  The  leaders  escaped  for  the  time 
by  the  speed  of  their  horses.  They  scattered  with  a  gen- 
eral purpose  of  making  for  Spain.  Labienus  reached  it, 
but  few  besides  him.  Afranius  and  Faustus  Sylla  with  a 
party  of  cavalry  galloped  to  Utica,  which  they  expected 
to  hold  till  one  of  the  Pompeys  could  bring  vessels  to  take 
them  off.  The  Utican  townspeople  had  from  the  first 
shown  an  inclination  for  Caesar.  Neither  they  nor  any 
other  Romans  in  Africa  liked  the  prospect  of  being  passed 
over  to  the  barbarians. 

Cowards  smarting  under  defeat  are  always  cruel.  The 
fugitives  from  Thapsus  found  that  Utica  would  •  not  be 
available  for  their  purpose,  and  in  revenge  they  began  to 
massacre  the  citizens.  Cato  was  still  in  the  town.  Cato 
was  one  of  those  better  natured  men  whom  revolution 
yokes  so  often  with  base  companionship.  He  was  shocked 
at  the  needless  cruelty,  and  bribed  the  murderous  gang  to 
depart.  They  were  taken  soon  afterwards  by  Caesar's 
cavalry.  Afranius  and  Sylla  were  brought  into  the  camp 
as  prisoners.  There  was  a  discussion  in  the  camp  as  to 
what  was  to  be  done  with  them.  Caesar  wished  to  be 
lenient,  but  the  feeling  in  the  legions  was  too  strong.  The 
system  of  pardons  could  not  be  continued  in  the  face  of 
hatred  so  envenomed.  The  two  commanders  were  exe- 
cuted; Caesar  contenting  himself  with  securing  Sylla's 
property  for  his  wife,  Pompeia,  the  great  Pompey's 
daughter.  Cato  Caesar  was  most  anxious  to  save;  but 
Cato's  enmity  was  so  ungovernable  that  he  grudged 
Caesar  the  honour  of  forgiving  him.  His  animosity  had 
been  originally  the  natural  antipathy  which  a  man  of  nar- 


B.  c.  46]  DEATH   OF  CATO  383 

row  understanding  instinctively  feels  for  a  man  of  genius. 
It  had  been  converted  by  perpetual  disappointment  into  a 
monomania,  and  Caesar  had  become  to  him  the  incarnation 
of  every  quality  and  every  principle  which  he  abhorred. 
Cato  was  upright,  unselfish,  incorruptibly  pure  in  deed 
and  word;  but  he  was  a  fanatic  whom  no  experience  could 
teach,  and  he  adhered  to  his  convictions  with  the  more 
tenacity,  because  fortune  or  the  disposition  of  events  so 
steadily  declared  them  to  be  mistaken.  He  would  have 
surrendered  Caesar  to  the  Germans  as  a  reward  for  having 
driven  them  back  over  the  Rhine.  He  was  one  of  those 
who  were  most  eager  to  impeach  him  for  the  acts  of  his 
consulship,  though  the  acts  themselves  were  such  as,  if  they 
had  been  done  by  another,  he  would  himself  have  most 
warmly  approved;  and  he  was  tempted  by  personal  dislike 
to  attach  himself  to  men  whose  object  was  to  reimpose 
upon  his  country  a  new  tyranny  of  Sylla.  His  character 
had  given  respectability  to  a  cause  which  if  left  to  its  proper 
defenders  would  have  appeared  in  its  natural  baseness, 
and  thus  on  him  rested  the  responsibility  for  the  colour 
of  justice  in  which  it  was  disguised.  That  after  all  which 
had  passed  he  should  be  compelled  to  accept  his  pardon 
at  Caesar's  hands  was  an  indignity  to  which  he  could  not 
submit,  and  before  the  conqueror  could  reach  Utica  he  fell 
upon  his  sword  and  died.  Ultimus  Romanorum  has  been 
the  epitaph  which  posterity  has  written  on  the  tomb  of 
Cato.  Nobler  Romans  than  he  lived  after  him;  and  a 
genuine  son  of  the  old  Republic  would  never  have  con- 
sented to  surrender  an  Imperial  province  to  a  barbarian 
prince.  But  at  least  he  was  an  open  enemy.  He  would 
not,  like  his  nephew  Brutus,  have  pretended  to  be  Caesar's 
friend,  that  he  might  the  more  conveniently  drive  a  dagger 
into  his  side. 

The  rest  of  the  party  was  broken  up.  Scipio  sailed  for 
Spain,  but  was  driven  back  by  foul  weather  into  Hippo, 
where  he  was  taken  and  killed.  His  correspondence  was 
found  and  taken  to  Caesar,  who  burnt  it  unread,  as  he  had 
burnt  Pompey's.     The  end  of  Juba  and  Petreius  had  a 


384  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  46 

wild  splendour  about  it.  They  had  fled  together  from 
Thapsus  to  Zama,  Juba's  own  principal  city,  and  they  were 
refused  admission.  Disdaining  to  be  taken  prisoners,  as 
they  knew  they  inevitably  would  be,  they  went  to  a  coun- 
try house  in  the  neighbourhood  belonging  to  the  king. 
There,  after  a  last  sumptuous  banquet,  they  agreed  to  die 
like  warriors  by  each  other's  hand.  Juba  killed  Petreius, 
and  then  ran  upon  his  own  sword. 

So  the  actors  in  the  drama  were  passing  away.  Do- 
mitius,  Pompey,  Lentulus,  Ligarius,  Metellus  Scipio, 
Afranius,  Cato,  Petreius,  had  sunk  into  bloody  graves. 
Labienus  had  escaped  clear  from  the  battle;  and  knowing 
that  if  Caesar  himself  would  pardon  him  Caesar's  army 
never  would,  he  made  his  way  to  Spain,  where  one  last, 
desperate  hope  remained.  The  mutinous  legions  of 
Cassius  Longinus  had  declared  for  the  Senate.  Some 
remnants  of  Pompey's  troops  who  had  been  dismissed  after 
Lerida  had  been  collected  again  and  joined  them;  and 
these,  knowing,  as  Labienus  knew,  that  they  had  sinned 
beyond  forgiveness,  were  prepared  to  fight  to  the  last  and 
die  at  bay. 

One  memorable  scene  in  the  African  campaign  must  not 
be  forgotten.  While  Caesar  was  in  difificulties  at  Rus- 
pinum,  and  was  impatiently  waiting  for  his  legions  from 
Sicily,  there  arrived  a  general  officer  of  the  Tenth,  named 
Caius  Avienus,  who  had  occupied  the  whole  of  one  of  the 
transports  with  his  personal  servants,  horses,  and  other 
conveniences,  and  had  not  brought  with  him  a  single  sol- 
dier. Avienus  had  been  already  privately  noted  by  Caesar 
as  having  been  connected  with  the  mutiny  in  Campania. 
His  own  habits  in  the  field  were  simple  in  the  extreme, 
and  he  hated  to  see  his  officers  self-indulgent.  He  used 
the  opportunity  to  make  an  example  of  him  and  of  one  or 
two  others  at  the  same  time. 

He  called  his  tribunes  and  centurions  together.  "  I 
could  wish,"  he  said,  "  that  certain  persons  would  have  re- 
membered for  themselves  parts  of  their  past  conduct  which, 
though  I  overlooked  them,  were  known  to  me;  I  could 


B.  c.  46]  DISCIPLINE  IN   CiESAR'S  ARMY  385 

wish  they  would  have  atoned  for  these  faults  by  special  at- 
tention to  their  duties.  As  they  have  not  chosen  to  do 
this,  I  must  make  an  example  of  them  as  a  warning  to 
others. 

**  You,  Caius  Avienus,  instigated  soldiers  in  the  service 
of  the  State  to  mutiny  against  their  commanders.  You 
oppressed  towns  which  were  under  your  charge.  Forget- 
ting your  duty  to  the  army  and  to  me,  you  filled  a  vessel 
with  your  own  establishment  which  was  intended  for  the 
transport  of  troops;  and  at  a  difficult  moment  we  were  thus 
left,  through  your  means,  without  the  men  whom  we  needed. 
For  these  causes,  and  as  a  mark  of  disgrace,  I  dismiss  you 
from  the  service,  and  I  order  you  to  leave  Africa  by  the 
first  ship  which  sails. 

"You,  Aulus  Fonteius  [another  tribune],  have  been  a 
seditious  and  a  bad  officer.     I  dismiss  you  also. 

'*  You,  Titus  Salienus,  Marcus  Tiro,  Caius  Clusinas, 
centurions,  obtained  your  commissions  by  favour,  not  by 
merit.  You  have  shown  want  of  courage  in  the  field;  your 
conduct  otherwise  has  been  uniformly  bad;  you  have  en- 
couraged a  mutinous  spirit  in  your  companies.  You  are 
unworthy  to  serve  under  my  command.  You  are  dis- 
missed, and  will  return  to  Italy." 

The  five  ofifenders  were  sent  under  guard  on  board  ship, 
each  noticeably  being  allowed  a  single  slave  to  wait  upon 
him,  and  so  were  expelled  from  the  country. 

This  remarkable  picture  of  Caesar's  method  of  enforcing 
discipline  is  described  by  a  person  who  was  evidently  pres- 
ent; ®  and  it  may  be  taken  as  a  correction  to  the  vague  sto- 
ries of  his  severity  to  these  officers  which  are  told  by  Dion 
Cassius. 

Notes 
'  Page  376.  To  Atticus,  xi.  7. 
•Page  378.  Citizens. 

•  Page  380.  Where  the  African  coast  turns  south  from  Cape  Bon. 

•  Page  380.  "  Animum  enim  altum  et  erectum  prae  se  gerebat.— De 
Bello  Africano. 

'  Page  381.  Between  Carthage  and  Utica. 

•  Page  385.  De  Bello  Africano,  c.  54.    This  remarkably  interesting  nar- 
rative is  attached  to  Caesar's  Commentaries.    The  author  is  unknown. 

25 


CHAPTER   XXV 

THE  drift  of  disaffection  into  Spain  was  held  at  first 
to  be  of  little  moment.  The  battle  of  Thapsus,  the 
final  breaking  up  of  the  senatorial  party,  and  the 
deaths  of  its  leaders  were  supposed  to  have  brought  an 
end  at  last  to  the  divisions  which  had  so  long  convulsed  the 
Empire.  Rome  put  on  its  best  dress.  The  people  had  been 
on  Caesar's  side  from  the  first.  Those  who  still  nursed  in 
their  hearts  the  old  animosity  were  afraid  to  show  it,  and 
the  nation  appeared  once  more  united  in  enthusiasm  for 
the  conqueror.  There  were  triumphal  processions  which 
lasted  for  four  days.  There  were  sham  fights  on  artificial 
lakes,  bloody  gladiator  shows,  which  the  Roman  populace 
looked  for  as  their  special  delight.  The  rejoicings  being 
over,  business  began.  Caesar  was,  of  course,  supreme. 
He  was  made  Inspector  of  Public  Morals,  the  censorship 
being  deemed  inadequate  to  curb  the  inordinate  extrava- 
gance. He  was  named  Dictator  for  ten  years,  with  a  right 
of  nominating  the  persons  whom  the  people  were  to  choose 
for  their  consuls  and  praetors.  The  clubs  and  caucuses, 
the  bribery  of  the  tribes,  the  intimidation,  the  organized 
bands  of  voters  formed  out  of  the  clients  of  the  aristocracy, 
were  all  at  an  end.  The  courts  of  law  were  purified.  No 
more  judges  were  to  be  bought  with  money  or  by  fouler 
temptations.  The  Leges  Juliae  became  a  practical  reality. 
One  remarkable  and  durable  reform  was  undertaken  and 
carried  through  amidst  the  jests  of  Cicero  and  the  other 
wits  of  the  time — the  revision  of  the  Roman  calendar. 
The  distribution  of  the  year  had  been  governed  hitherto 
by  the  motions  of  the  moon.  The  twelve  annual  moons 
had  fixed  at  twelve  the  number  of  the  months,  and  the 
number  of  days  required  to  bring  the  lunar  year  into  cor- 

386 


B.  c.  46-45]  REFORM   OF  THE   CALENDAR  387 

respondence  with  the  solar  had  been  supplied  by  irregular 
intercalations,  at  the  direction  of  the  Sacred  College. 
But  the  Sacred  College  during  the  last  distracted  century 
had  neglected  their  office.  The  lunar  year  was  now  sixty- 
five  days  in  advance  of  the  sun.  The  so-called  winter  was 
really  the  autumn,  the  spring  the  winter.  The  summer 
solstice  fell  at  the  beginning  of  the  legal  September.  On 
Caesar  as  Pontifex  Maximus  devolved  the  duty  of  bring- 
ing confusion  into  order,  and  the  completeness  with  which 
the  work  was  accomplished  at  the  first  moment  of  his  leis- 
ure shows  that  he  had  found  time  in  the  midst  of  his  cam- 
paigns to  think  of  other  things  than  war  or  politics.  So- 
sigenes,  an  Alexandrian  astronomer,  was  called  in  to  super- 
intend the  reform.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  he  had  made  ac- 
quaintance with  Sosigenes  in  Egypt,  and  had  discussed  the 
problem  with  him  in  the  hours  during  which  he  is  supposed 
to  have  amused  himself  "  in  the  arms  of  Cleopatra."  So- 
sigenes, leaving  the  moon  altogether,  took  the  sun  for  the 
basis  of  the  new  system.  The  Alexandrian  observers  had 
discovered  that  the  annual  course  of  the  sun  was  completed 
in  365  days  and  six  hours.  The  lunar  twelve  was  allowed 
to  remain  to  fix  the  number  of  the  months.  The  number 
of  days  in  each  month  was  adjusted  to  absorb  365  days. 
The  superfluous  hours  were  allowed  to  accumulate,  and 
every  fourth  year  an  additional  day  was  to  be  intercalated. 
An  arbitrary  step  was  required  to  repair  the  negligence  of 
the  past.  Sixty-five  days  had  still  to  be  made  good.  The 
new  system,  depending  wholly  on  the  sun,  would  naturally 
have  commenced  with  the  winter  solstice.  But  Caesar  so 
far  deferred  to  usage  as  to  choose  to  begin,  not  with  the 
solstice  itself,  but  with  the  first  new  moon  which  followed. 
It  so  happened  in  that  year  that  the  new  moon  was  eight 
days  after  the  solstice;  and  thus  the  next  year  started,  as  it 
continues  to  start,  from  the  ist  of  January.  The  eight 
days  were  added  to  the  sixty-five,  and  the  current  year  was 
lengthened  by  nearly  three  months.  It  pleased  Cicero  to 
mock,  as  if  Caesar,  not  contented  with  the  earth,  was  mak- 
ing himself  the  master  of  the  heavens.     "  Lyra,"  he  said^ 


388  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  45 

"  was  to  set  according  to  the  Edict  " ;  but  the  unwise  man 
was  not  Caesar  in  this  instance/ 

While  Sosigenes  was  at  work  with  the  calendar,  Caesar 
personally  again  revised  the  Senate.  He  expelled  every 
member  who  had  been  guilty  of  extortion  or  corruption: 
he  supplied  the  vacancies  with  officers  of  merit,  with  dis- 
tinguished colonists,  with  foreigners,  with  meritorious 
citizens,  even  including  Gauls,  from  all  parts  of  the  Empire. 
Time,  unfortunately,  had  to  pass  before  these  men  could 
take  their  places,  but  meanwhile  he  treated  the  existing 
body  with  all  forms  of  respect,  and  took  no  step  on  any 
question  of  public  moment  till  the  Senate  had  deliberated 
on  it.  As  a  fitting  close  to  the  war  he  proclaimed  an  am- 
nesty to  all  who  had  borne  arms  against  him.  The  past 
was  to  be  forgotten,  and  all  his  efforts  were  directed  to  the 
regeneration  of  Roman  society.  Cicero  paints  the  habits 
of  fashionable  life  in  colours  which  w^ere  possibly  exagger- 
ated; but  enough  remains  of  authentic  fact  to  justify  the 
general  truth  of  the  picture.  Women  had  forgotten  their 
honour,  children  their  respect  for  parents.  Husbands  had 
murdered  wives,  and  wives  husbands.  Parricide  and  in- 
cest formed  common  incidents  of  domestic  Italian  history; 
and,  as  justice  had  been  ordered  in  the  last  years  of  the  Re- 
public, the  most  abandoned  villain  who  came  into  court 
with  a  handful  of  gold  was  assured  of  impunity.  Rich 
men,  says  Suetonius,  were  never  deterred  from  crime  by 
fear  of  forfeiting  their  estates;  they  had  but  to  leave  Italy, 
and  their  property  was  secured  to  them.  It  was  held  an 
extraordinary  step  towards  improvement  when  Caesar 
abolished  the  monstrous  privilege,  and  ordered  that  parri- 
cides should  not  only  be  exiled,  but  should  forfeit  every- 
thing that  belonged  to  them,  and  that  minor  felons  should 
forfeit  half  their  estates. 

Cicero  had  prophesied  so  positively  that  Caesar  would 
throw  off  the  mask  of  clemency  when  the  need  of  it  was 
gone,  that  he  was  disappointed  to  find  him  persevere  in 
the  same  gentleness,  and  was  impatient  for  revenge  to  be- 
gin.    So  bitter  Cicero  was  that  he  once  told  Atticus  he 


B.  c.  45]  DISSATISFACTION  OF  CICERO  389 

could  almost  wish  himself  to  be  the  object  of  some  cruel 
prosecution,  that  the  tyrant  might  have  the  disgrace 
of  it.' 

He  could  not  deny  that  "  the  tyrant ''  was  doing  what, 
if  Rome  was  to  continue  an  ordered  commonwealth,  it 
was  essential  must  be  done.  Caesar's  acts  were  unconsti- 
tutional! Yes;  but  constitutions  are  made  for  men,  not 
men  for  constitutions,  and  Cicero  had  long  seen  that  the 
constitution  was  at  an  end.  It  had  died  of  its  own  in- 
iquities. He  had  perceived  in  his  better  moments  that 
Caesar,  and  Caesar  only,  could  preserve  such  degrees  of 
freedom  as  could  be  retained  without  universal  destruction. 
But  he  refused  to  be  comforted.  He  considered  it  was  a 
disgrace  to  them  all  that  Caesar  was  alive.^  Why  did  not 
somebody  kill  him?  Kill  him?  And  what  then?  On  that 
side  too  the  outlook  was  not  promising.  News  had  come 
that  Labienus  and  young  Cnaeus  Pompey  had  united  their 
forces  in  Spain.  The  whole  Peninsula  was  in  revolt,  and 
the  counter-revolution  was  not  impossible  after  all.  He 
reflected  with  terror  on  the  sarcasms  which  he  had  flung  on 
young  Pompey.  He  knew  him  to  be  a  fool  and  a  savage. 
"  Hang  me,"  he  said,  *'  if  I  do  not  prefer  an  old  and  kind 
master  to  trying  experiments  with  a  new  and  cruel  one. 
The  laugh  will  be  on  the  other  side  then."  * 

Far  had  Cicero  fallen  from  his  dream  of  being  the  great- 
est man  in  Rome!  Condemned  to  immortality  by  his 
genius,  yet  condemned  also  to  survive  in  the  portrait  of 
himself  which  he  has  so  unconsciously  and  so  innocently 
drawn. 

The  accounts  from  Spain  were  indeed  most  serious.  It 
is  the  misfortune  of  men  of  superior  military  ability  that 
their  subordinates  are  generally  failures  when  trusted  with 
independent  commands.  Accustomed  to  obey  implicitly 
the  instructions  of  their  chief,  they  have  done  what  they 
have  been  told  to  do,  and  their  virtue  has  been  in  never 
thinking  for  themselves.  They  succeed,  and  they  forget 
why  they  succeed,  and  in  part  attribute  their  fortune  to 
their  own  skill.     With  Alexander's  generals,  with  Caesar's, 


390  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  45 

with  Cromwell's,  even  with  some  of  Napoleon's,  the  story- 
has  been  the  same.  They  have  been  self-confident,  yet 
when  thrown  upon  their  own  resources  they  have  been 
driven  back  upon  a  judgment  which  has  been  inadequately 
trained.  The  mind  which  guided  them  is  absent.  The 
instrument  is  called  on  to  become  self-acting  and  neces- 
sarily acts  unwisely.  Caesar's  lieutenants  while  under  his 
own  eye  had  executed  his  orders  with  the  precision  of  a 
machine.  When  left  to  their  own  responsibility  they  were 
invariably  found  wanting.  Among  all  his  officers  there 
was  not  a  man  of  real  eminence.  Labienus,  the  ablest  of 
them,  had  but  to  desert  Caesar,  to  commit  blunder  upon 
blunder,  and  to  ruin  the  cause  to  which  he  attached  him- 
self. Antony,  Lepidus,  Trebonius,  Calvinus,  Cassius  Lon- 
ginus,  Quintus  Cicero,  Sabinus,  Decimus  Brutus,  Vatinius, 
were  trusted  with  independent  authority,  only  to  show 
themselves  unfit  to  use  it.  Cicero  had  guessed  shrewdly 
that  Caesar's  greatest  difficulties  would  begin  with  his  vic- 
tory. He  had  not  a  man  who  was  able  to  govern  under 
him  away  from  his  immediate  eye. 

Cassius  Longinus,  Trebonius,  and  Marcus  Lepidus  had 
been  sent  to  Spain  after  the  battle  of  Pharsalia.  They 
had  quarrelled  among  themselves.  They  had  driven  the 
legions  into  mutiny.  The  authority  of  Rome  had  broken 
down  as  entirely  as  when  Sertorius  was  defying  the  Senate; 
and  Spain  had  become  the  receptacle  of  all  the  active  dis- 
affection which  remained  in  the  Empire.  Thither  had 
drifted  the  wreck  of  Scipio's  African  army.  Thither  had 
gathered  the  outlaws,  pirates,  and  banditti  of  Italy  and  the 
Islands.  Thither  too  had  come  flights  of  Numidians  and 
Moors  in  hopes  of  plunder;  and  Pompey's  sons  and  La- 
bienus had  collected  an  army  as  numerous  as  that  which 
had  been  defeated  at  Thapsus,  and  composed  of  materials 
far  more  dangerous  and  desperate.  There  were  thirteen 
legions  of  them  in  all,  regularly  formed,  with  eagles  and 
standards;  two  which  had  deserted  from  Trebonius;  one 
made  out  of  Roman  Spanish  settlers,  or  old  soldiers  of 
Pompey's  who  had  been  dismissed  at  Lerida;  four  out  of 


B.  c.  45]  LAST   CAMPAIGN   IN   SPAIN  39I 

the  remnants  of  the  campaign  in  Africa;  the  rest  a  miscel- 
laneous combination  of  the  mutinous  legions  of  Longinus 
and  outlawed  adventurers  who  knew  that  there  was  no  for- 
giveness for  them,  and  were  ready  to  fight  while  they  could 
stand.  It  was  the  last  cast  of  the  dice  for  the  old  party  of 
the  aristocracy.  Appearances  were  thrown  off.  There 
were  no  more  Catos,  no  more  phantom  Senates  to  lend  to 
rebellion  the  pretended  dignity  of  a  national  cause.  The 
true  barbarian  was  there  in  his  natural  colours. 

Very  reluctantly  Caesar  found  that  he  must  himself  grap- 
ple with  this  last  convulsion.  The  sanguinary  obstinacy 
which  no  longer  proposed  any  object  to  itself  save  defiance 
and  revenge,  was  converting  a  war  which  at  first  wore  an 
aspect  of  a  legitimate  constitutional  struggle,  into  a  con- 
flict with  brigands.  Clemency  had  ceased  to  be  possible, 
and  Caesar  would  have  gladly  left  to  others  the  execution 
in  person  of  the  sharp  surgery  which  was  now  necessary. 
He  was  growing  old:  fifty-five  this  summer.  His  health 
was  giving  way.  For  fourteen  years  he  had  known  no 
rest.  That  he  could  have  endured  so  long  such  a  strain 
on  mind  and  body  was  due  only  to  his  extraordinary  ab- 
stinence, to  the  simplicity  of  his  habits,  and  the  calmness 
of  temperament  which  in  the  most  anxious  moments  re- 
fused to  be  agitated.  But  the  work  was  telling  at  last  on 
his  constitution,  and  he  departed  on  his  last  campaign  with 
confessed  unwillingness.  The  future  was  clouded  with  un- 
certainty. A  few  more  years  of  life  might  enable  him  to 
introduce  into  the  shattered  frame  of  the  Commonwealth 
some  durable  elements.  His  death  in  the  existing  con- 
fusion might  be  as  fatal  as  Alexander's.  That  some  one 
person  not  liable  to  removal  under  the  annual  wave  of  elec- 
toral agitation  must  preside  over  the  army  and  the  ad- 
ministration, had  been  evident  in  lucid  moments  even  to 
Cicero.  To  leave  the  prize  to  be  contended  for  among  the 
military  chiefs  was  to  bequeath  a  legacy  of  civil  wars  and 
probable  disruption;  to  compound  with  the  embittered 
remnants  of  the  aristocracy  who  were  still  in  the  field  would 
intensify  the  danger;  yet  time  and  peace  alone  could  give 


392  JULIUS  C^SAR  [B.  c.  45 

Opportunity  for  the  conditions  of  a  permanent  settlement 
to  shape  themselves.  The  name  of  Caesar  had  become 
identified  with  the  stability  of  the  Empire.  He  no  doubt 
foresaw  that  the  only  possible  chief  would  be  found  in  his 
own  family.  Being  himself  childless,  he  had  adopted  his 
sister's  grandson,  Octavius,  afterwards  Augustus,  a  father- 
less boy  of  seventeen;  and  had  trained  him  under  his  own 
eye.  He  had  discerned  qualities  doubtless  in  his  nephew 
which,  if  his  own  life  was  extended  for  a  few  years  longer, 
might  enable  the  boy  to  become  the  representative  of  his 
house  and  perhaps  the  heir  of  his  power.  In  the  unre- 
corded intercourse  between  the  uncle  and  his  niece's  child 
lies  the  explanation  of  the  rapidity  with  which  the  untried 
Octavius  seized  the  reins  when  all  was  again  chaos,  and 
directed  the  Commonwealth  upon  the  lines  which  it  was 
to  follow  during  the  remaining  centuries  of  Roman 
power. 

Octavius  accompanied  Caesar  into  Spain.  They  trav- 
elled in  a  carriage,  having  as  a  third  with  them  the  general 
whom  Caesar  most  trusted  and  liked,  and  whom  he  had 
named  in  his  will  as  one  of  Octavius's  guardians,  Decimus 
Brutus — the  same  ofBcer  who  had  commanded  his  fleet 
for  him  at  Quiberon  and  at  Marseilles,  and  had  now  been 
selected  as  the  future  governor  of  Cisalpine  Gaul.  Once 
more  it  was  midwinter  when  they  left  Rome.  They  trav- 
elled swiftly;  and  Caesar,  as  usual,  himself  brought  the  news 
that  he  was  coming.  But  the  winter  season  did  not  bring 
to  him  its  usual  advantages,  for  the  whole  Peninsula  had 
revolted,  and  Pompey  and  Labienus  were  able  to  shelter 
their  troops  in  the  towns,  while  Caesar  was  obliged  to  keep 
the  field.  Attempts  here  and  there  to  capture  detached 
positions  led  to  no  results.  On  both  sides  now  the  war 
was  carried  on  upon  the  principles  which  the  Senate  had 
adopted  from  the  first.  Prisoners  from  the  revolted  le- 
gions were  instantly  executed,  and  Cnaeus  Pompey  mur- 
dered the  provincials  whom  he  suspected  of  an  inclination 
for  Caesar.  Attagona  was  at  last  taken.  Caesar  moved  on 
Cordova;  and  Pompey,  fearing  that  the  important  cities 


B.  c.  45]  BATTLE   OF   MUNDA  393 

might  seek  their  own  security  by  coming  separately  to 
terms,  found  it  necessary  to  risk  a  battle. 

The  scene  of  the  conflict  which  ended  the  Civil  War 
was  the  plain  of  Munda.  The  day  was  the  17th  of  March, 
B.  C.  45.  Spanish  tradition  places  Munda  on  the  Medi- 
terranean, near  Gibraltar.  The  real  Munda  was  on  the 
Guadalquivir,  so  near  to  Cordova  that  the  remains  of  the 
beaten  army  found  shelter  within  its  walls  after  the  battle. 
Caesar  had  been  so  invariably  victorious  in  his  engage- 
ments in  the  open  field  that  the  result  might  have  been 
thought  a  foregone  conclusion.  Legendary  history  re- 
ported in  the  next  generation  that  the  elements  had  been 
pregnant  with  auguries.  Images  had  sweated;  the  sky 
had  blazed  with  meteors;  celestial  armies,  the  spirits  of  the 
past  and  future,  had  battled  among  the  constellations.  The 
signs  had  been  unfavourable  to  the  Pompeians;  the  eagles 
of  their  legions  had  dropped  the  golden  thunderbolts  from 
their  talons,  spread  their  wings,  and  had  flown  away  to 
Caesar.  In  reality,  the  eagles  had  remained  in  their  places 
till  the  standards  fell  from  the  hands  of  their  dead  defend- 
ers; and  the  battle  was  one  of  the  most  desperate  in  which 
Caesar  had  ever  been  engaged.  The  numbers  were  nearly 
equal — the  material  on  both  sides  equally  good.  Pom- 
pey's  army  was  composed  of  revolted  Roman  soldiers.  In 
arms,  in  discipline,  in  stubborn  fierceness,  there  was  no  dif- 
ference. The  Pompeians  had  the  advantage  of  the  situa- 
tion, the  village  of  Munda,  with  the  hill  on  which  it  stood, 
being  in  the  centre  of  their  lines.  The  Moorish  and  Span- 
ish auxiliaries,  of  whom  there  were  large  bodies  on  either 
side,  stood  apart  when  the  legions  closed;  they  having  no 
further  interest  in  the  matter  than  in  siding  with  the  con- 
queror, when  fortune  had  decided  who  the  conqueror  was 
to  be.  There  were  no  manoeuvres;  no  scientific  evolutions. 
The  Pompeians  knew  that  there  was  no  hope  for  them  if 
they  were  defeated.  Caesar's  men,  weary  and  savage  at  the 
protraction  of  the  war,  were  determined  to  make  a  last  end 
of  it;  and  the  two  armies  fought  hand  to  hand  with  their 
short  swords,  with  set  teeth  and  pressed  lips,  opened  only 


394  JULIUS   CESAR  [b.  c.  45 

with  a  sharp  cry  as  an  enemy  fell  dead.  So  equal  was  the 
struggle,  so  doubtful  at  one  moment  the  issue  of  it,  that 
Caesar  himself  sprang  from  his  horse,  seized  a  standard, 
and  rallied  a  wavering  legion.  It  seemed  as  if  the  men 
meant  all  to  stand  and  kill  or  be  killed  as  long  as  daylight 
lasted.  The  ill  fate  of  Labienus  decided  the  victory.  He 
had  seen,  as  he  supposed,  some  movement  which  alarmed 
him  among  Caesar's  Moorish  auxiliaries,  and  had  galloped 
conspicuously  across  the  field  to  lead  a  division  to  check 
them.  A  shout  rose,  "  He  flies — he  flies!  "  A  panic  ran 
along  the  Pompeian  lines.  They  gave  way,  and  Caesar's 
legions  forced  a  road  between  their  ranks.  One  wing 
broke  ofif,  and  made  for  Cordova;  the  rest  plunged  wildly 
within  the  ditch  and  walls  of  Munda,  the  avenging  sword 
smiting  behind  into  the  huddled  mass  of  fugitives. 

Scarcely  a  prisoner  was  taken.  Thirty  thousand  fell  on 
the  field,  among  them  three  thousand  Roman  knights,  the 
last  remains  of  the  haughty  youths  who  had  threatened 
Caesar  with  their  swords  in  the  Senate-house,  and  had 
hacked  Clodius's  mob  in  the  Forum.  Among  them  was 
slain  Labienus — his  desertion  of  his  general,  his  insults  and 
his  cruelties  to  his  comrades,  expiated  at  last  in  his  own 
blood.  Attius  Varus  was  killed  also,  who  had  been  with 
Juba  when  he  destroyed  Curio.  The  tragedy  was  being 
knitted  up  in  the  deaths  of  the  last  actors  in  it.  The  eagles 
of  the  thirteen  legions  were  all  taken.  The  two  Pompeys 
escaped  on  their  horses,  Sextus  disappearing  in  the  moun- 
tains of  Granada  or  the  Sierra  Morena;  Cnaeus  flying  for 
Gibraltar,  where  he  hoped  to  find  a  friendly  squadron. 

Munda  was  at  once  blockaded,  the  inclosing  wall — sav- 
age evidence  of  the  temper  of  the  conquerors — being  built 
of  dead  bodies  pinned  together  with  lances,  and  on  the 
top  of  it  a  fringe  of  heads  on  swords'  points  with  the  faces 
turned  towards  the  town.  A  sally  was  attempted  at  mid- 
night, and  failed.  The  desperate  wretches  then  fought 
among  themselves,  till  at  length  the  place  was  surrendered, 
and  fourteen  thousand  of  those  who  still  survived  were 
taken,  and  spared.     Their  comrades,  who  had  made  their 


B.  c.  45]  END  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR  395 

way  into  Cordova,  were  less  fortunate.  When  the  result 
of  the  battle  was  known,  the  leading  citizen,  who  had 
headed  the  revolt  against  Caesar,  gathered  all  that  belonged 
to  him  in  a  heap,  poured  turpentine  over  it,  and,  after  a  last 
feast  with  his  family,  burnt  himself,  his  house,  his  children, 
and  servants.  In  the  midst  of  the  tumult  the  walls  were 
stormed.  Cordova  was  given  up  to  plunder  and  massa- 
cre, and  twenty-two  thousand  miserable  people — most  of 
them,  it  may  be  hoped,  the  fugitives  from  Munda — ^were 
killed.  The  example  sufficed.  Every  town  opened  its 
gates,  and  Spain  was  once  more  submissive.  Sextus  Pom- 
pey  successfully  concealed  himself.  Cnaeus  reached  Gib- 
raltar, but  to  find  that  most  of  the  ships  which  he  looked 
for  had  been  taken  by  Caesar's  fleet.  He  tried  to  cross  to 
the  African  coast,  but  was  driven  back  by  bad  weather, 
and  search  parties  were  instantly  on  his  track.  He  had 
been  wounded;  he  had  sprained  his  ankle  in  his  flight. 
Strength  and  hope  were  gone.  He  was  carried  on  a  litter 
to  a  cave  on  a  mountain  side,  where  his  pursuers  found 
him,  cut  off  his  head,  and  spared  Cicero  from  further 
anxiety. 

Thus  bloodily  ended  the  Civil  War,  which  the  S€nate  of 
Rome  had  undertaken  against  Caesar,  to  escape  the  re- 
forms which  were  threatened  by  his  second  consulship. 
They  had  involuntarily  rendered  their  country  the  best 
service  which  they  were  capable  of  conferring  upon  it,  for 
the  attempts  which  Caesar  would  have  made  to  amend  a 
system  too  decayed  to  benefit  by  the  process  had  been 
rendered  forever  impossible  by  their  persistence.  The 
free  constitution  of  the  Republic  had  issued  at  last  in  elec- 
tions which  were  a  mockery  of  representation,  in  courts  of 
law  which  were  an  insult  to  justice,  and  in  the  conversion 
of  the  provinces  of  the  Empire  into  the  feeding-grounds 
of  a  gluttonous  aristocracy.  In  the  army  alone  the  Ro- 
man character  and  the  Roman  honour  survived.  In  the 
Imperator,  therefore,  as  chief  of  the  army,  the  care  of  the 
provinces,  the  direction  of  public  policy,  the  sovereign  au- 
thority in  the  last  appeal,  could  alone  thenceforward  reside. 


39^  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  45 

The  Senate  might  remain  as  a  Council  of  State ;  the  magis- 
trates might  bear  their  old  names,  and  administer  their  old 
functions.  But  the  authority  of  the  executive  government 
lay  in  the  royalty,  the  morality,  and  the  patriotism  of  the 
legions  to  whom  the  power  had  been  transferred.  For- 
tunately for  Rome,  the  change  came  before  the  decay  had 
eaten  into  the  bone,  and  the  genius  of  the  Empire  had  still 
a  refuge  from  platform  oratory  and  senatorial  wrangling 
in  the  hearts  of  her  soldiers. 

Caesar  did  not  immediately  return  to  Italy.  Affairs  in 
Rome  were  no  longer  pressing,  and,  after  the  carelessness 
and  blunders  of  his  lieutenants,  the  administration  of  the 
Peninsula  required  his  personal  inspection.  From  open 
revolts  in  any  part  of  the  Roman  dominions  he  had  noth- 
ing more  to  fear.  The  last  card  had  been  played,  and  the 
game  of  open  resistance  was  lost  beyond  recovery.  There 
might  be  dangers  of  another  kind:  dangers  from  ambitious 
generals,  who  might  hope  to  take  Caesar's  place  on  his 
death;  or  dangers  from  constitutional  philosophers,  Hke 
Cicero,  who  had  thought  from  the  first  that  the  Civil  War 
had  been  a  mistake,  "  that  Caesar  was  but  mortal,  and  that 
there  were  many  ways  in  which  a  man  might  die."  A  re- 
flection so  frankly  expressed,  by  so  respectable  a  person, 
must  have  occurred  to  many  others  as  well  as  to  Cicero; 
Caesar  could  not  but  have  foreseen  in  what  resources  dis- 
appointed fanaticism  or  baffled  selfishness  might  seek  ref- 
uge. But  of  such  possibilities  he  was  prepared  to  take  his 
chance;  he  did  not  fly  from  them,  he  did  not  seek  them;  he 
took  his  work  as  he  found  it,  and  remained  in  Spain 
through  the  summer,  imposing  fines  and  allotting  rewards, 
readjusting  the  taxation,  and  extending  the  political  privi- 
leges of  the  Roman  colonies.  It  was  not  till  late  in  the 
autumn  that  he  again  turned  his  face  towards  Rome. 

Notes 

*  Page  388.  In  connection  with  this  subject  it  is  worth  while  to  men- 
tion another  change  in  the  division  of  time,  not  introduced  by  Caesar, 
but  which  came  into  general  use  about  a  century  after.     The  week  of 


B.  c.  45]  END   OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR  397 

seven  days  was  unknown  to  the  Greeks  and  to  the  Romans  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, the  days  of  the  month  being  counted  by  the  phases  of  the 
moon.  The  seven  days'  division  was  supposed  by  the  Romans  to  be 
Egyptian.  We  know  it  to  have  been  Jewish,  and  it  was  probably  in- 
troduced to  the  general  world  on  the  first  spread  of  Christianity.  It 
was  universally  adopted  at  any  rate  after  Christianity  had  been  planted 
in  different  parts  of  the  Empire,  but  while  the  Government  and  the 
mass  of  the  people  were  still  unconverted  to  the  new  religion.  The 
week  was  accepted  for  its  convenience;  but  while  accepted  it  was 
paganized;  and  the  seven  days  were  allotted  to  the  five  planets  and 
the  sun  and  moon  in  the  order  which  still  survives  among  the  Latin 
nations,  and  here  in  England  with  a  further  introduction  of  Scandi- 
navian mythology.  The  principle  of  the  distribution  was  what  is  pop- 
ularly called  "  the  music  of  the  spheres,"  and  turns  on  a  law  of  Greek 
music  which  is  called  by  Dion  Cassius  the  apfxovla  Sid  reffo-dpuv.  Assum- 
ing the  earth  to  be  the  centre  of  the  universe,  the  celestial  bodies 
which  have  a  proper  movement  of  their  own  among  the  stars  were  ar- 
ranged in  the  order  of  their  apparent  periods  of  revolution — Saturn, 
Jupiter,  Mars,  the  Sun,  Venus,  Mercury,  the  Moon.  The  Jewish  Je- 
hovah was  identified  by  the  Graeco-Romans  with  Saturn,  the  oldest  of 
the  heathen  personal  gods.  The  Sabbath  was  the  day  supposed  to  be 
specially  devoted  to  him.  The  first  day  of  the  week  was  therefore 
given  to  Saturn.  Passing  over  Jupiter  and  Mars,  according  to  the 
laws  of  the  &pfwvla,  the  next  day  was  given  to  the  Sun;  again  passing 
over  two,  the  next  to  the  Moon,  and  so  on,  going  round  again  to  the 
rest,  till  the  still  existing  order  came  out:  Dies  Saturni,  dies  Solis,  dies 
Lunse,  dies  Martis,  dies  Mercurii,  dies  Jovis,  and  dies  Veneris.  Dion 
Cassius,  See  Historia  Romana,  lib.  xxxvii.  c.  18.  Dion  Cassius  gives  a 
second  account  of  the  distribution,  depending  on  the  twenty-four  hours 
of  the  day.  But  the  twenty-four  hours  being  a  division  purely  artificial 
this  explanation  is  of  less  interest. 

2  Page  389,  To  Atticus,  x.  12. 

3  Page  389.  "  Cum  vivere  ipsum  turpe  sit  nobis."— To  Atticus,  xiii.  28. 
*  Page  389.  "  Peream  nisi  soUicitus  sum,  ac  malo  veterem  et  clemen- 

tem  dominum  habere,  quam  novum  et  crudelem  experiri.  Scis,  Cnaeus 
quam  sit  fatuus.  Scis,  quomodo  crudelitatem  virtutem  putet.  Scis, 
quam  se  semper  a  nobis  derisum  putet.  Vereor,  ne  nos  rustice  gladio 
velit  ivTifivKTripUrai." — To  Caius  Cassius,  Ad.  Fam.,  xv.  19. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

C^SAR  came  back  to  Rome  to  resume  the  sus- 
pended work  of  practical  reform.  His  first  care 
was  to  remove  the  fears  which  the  final  spasm  of 
rebellion  had  again  provoked.  He  had  already  granted 
an  amnesty.  But  the  Optimates  were  conscious  that  they 
had  desired  and  hoped  that  the  Pompeys  might  be  victori- 
ous in  Spain.  Caesar  invited  the  surviving  leaders  of  the 
party  to  sue  for  pardon  on  not  unbecoming  conditions. 
Hitherto  they  had  kept  no  faith  with  him,  and  on  the  first 
show  of  opportunity  had  relapsed  into  defiance.  His  for- 
bearance had  been  attributed  to  want  of  power  rather  than 
of  will  to  punish;  when  they  saw  him  again  triumphant, 
they  assumed  that  the  representative  of  the  Marian  prin- 
ciples would  show  at  last  the  colours  of  his  uncle,  and  that 
Rome  would  again  run  with  blood.  He  knew  them  all. 
He  knew  that  they  hated  him,  and  would  continue  to  hate 
him;  but  he  supposed  that  they  had  recognised  the  hope- 
lessness and  uselessness  of  further  conspiracy.  By  de- 
stroying him  they  would  fall  only  under  the  rod  of  less 
scrupulous  conquerors;  and  therefore  he  was  content  that 
they  should  ask  to  be  forgiven.  To  show  further  that  the 
past  was  really  to  be  forgotten,  he  drew  no  distinction  be- 
tween his  enemies  and  his  friends,  and  he  recommended 
impartially  for  ofifice  those  whose  rank  or  services  to  the 
State  entitled  them  to  look  for  promotion.  Thus  he  par- 
doned and  advanced  Caius  Cassius,  who  would  have  killed 
him  in  Cilicia.^  But  Cassius  had  saved  Syria  from  being 
overrun  by  the  Parthians  after  the  death  of  Crassus;  and 
the  service  to  the  state  outweighed  the  injury  to  himself. 
So  he  pardoned  and  advanced  Marcus  Brutus,  his  friend 
Servilia's  son,  who  had  fought  against  him  at  Pharsalia,  and 
had  been  saved  from  death  there  by  his  special  orders.     So 

398 


B.  c.  45]  GENERAL  AMNESTY  399 

he  pardoned  and  protected  Cicero;  so  Marcus  Marcellus, 
who,  as  consul,  had  moved  that  he  should  be  recalled  from 
his  government,  and  had  flogged  the  citizen  of  Como,  in 
scorn  of  the  privileges  which  Caesar  had  granted  to  the 
colony.  So  he  pardoned  also  Quintus  Ligarius,^  who  had 
betrayed  his  confidence  in  Africa;  so  a  hundred  others, 
who  now  submitted,  accepted  his  favours,  and  bound  them- 
selves to  plot  against  him  no  more.  To  the  widows  and 
children  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  the  war  he  restored  the 
estates  and  honours  of  their  families.  Finally,  as  some 
were  still  sullen,  and  refused  to  sue  for  a  forgiveness  which 
might  imply  an  acknowledgment  of  guilt,  he  renewed  the 
general  amnesty  of  the  previous  year;  and,  as  a  last  evi- 
dence that  his  victory  was  not  the  triumph  of  democracy, 
but  the  consolidation  of  a  united  Empire,  he  restored  the 
statues  of  Sylla  and  Pompey,  which  had  been  thrown  down 
in  the  revolution,  and  again  dedicated  them  with  a  public 
ceremonial. 

Having  thus  proved  that,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  he 
nourished  no  resentment  against  the  persons  of  the  Opti- 
mates,  or  against  their  principles,  so  far  as  they  were  con- 
sistent with  the  future  welfare  of  the  Roman  State,  Caesar 
set  himself  again  to  the  reorganization  of  the  administra- 
tion. Unfortunately,  each  step  that  he  took  was  a  fresh 
crime  in  the  eyes  of  men  whose  pleasant  monopoly  of 
power  he  had  overthrown.  But  this  was  a  necessity  of  the 
revolution.  They  had  fought  for  their  supremacy,  and 
had  lost  the  day. 

He  increased  the  number  of  the  Senate  to  nine  hundred, 
filling  its  ranks  from  eminent  provincials;  introducing  even 
barbarian  Gauls,  and,  still  worse,  libertini,  the  sons  of  liber- 
ated slaves,  who  had  risen  to  distinction  by  their  own  merit. 
The  new  members  came  in  slowly,  and  it  is  needless  to  say 
were  unwillingly  received;  a  private  handbill  was  sent 
round,  recommending  the  coldest  of  greetings  to  them.^ 

The  inferior  magistrates  were  now  responsible  to  himself 
as  Dictator.  He  added  to  their  numbers  also,  and,  to 
check  the  mischiefs  of  the  annual  elections,  he  ordered  that 


400  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  45 

they  should  be  chosen  for  three  years.  He  cut  short  the 
corn  grants,  which  nursed  the  city  mob  in  idleness;  and 
from  among  the  impoverished  citizens  he  furnished  out 
masses  of  colonists  to  repair  the  decay  of  ancient  cities. 
Corinth  rose  from  its  ashes  under  Caesar's  care.  Eighty 
thousand  Italians  were  settled  down  on  the  site  of  Car- 
thage. As  inspector  of  morals,  Caesar  inherited  in  an  in- 
vigorated form  the  power  of  the  censors.  Senators  and 
officials  who  had  discredited  themselves  by  dishonesty  were 
ruthlessly  degraded.  His  own  private  habits  and  the 
habits  of  his  household  were  models  of  frugality.  He 
made  an  effort,  in  which  Augustus  afterward  imitated  him, 
to  check  the  luxury  which  was  eating  into  the  Roman 
character.  He  forbade  the  idle  young  patricians  to  be 
carried  about  by  slaves  in  litters.  The  markets  of  the 
world  had  been  ransacked  to  provide  dainties  for  these 
gentlemen.  He  appointed  inspectors  to  survey  the 
dealers'  stalls,  and  occasionally  prohibited  dishes  were 
carried  ofif  from  the  dinner-table  under  the  eyes  of  the  dis- 
appointed guests.*  Enemies  enough  Caesar  made  by  these 
measures;  but  it  could  not  be  said  of  him  that  he  allowed 
indulgences  to  himself  which  he  interdicted  to  others.  His 
domestic  economy  was  strict  and  simple,  the  accounts 
being  kept  to  a  sesterce.  His  frugality  was  hospitable. 
He  had  two  tables  always,  one  for  his  civilian  friends,  an- 
other for  his  officers,  who  dined  in  uniform.  The  food 
was  plain,  but  the  best  of  its  kind;  and  he  was  not  to  be 
played  with  in  such  matters.  An  unlucky  baker  who  sup- 
plied his  guests  with  bread  of  worse  quality  than  he  fur- 
nished for  himself  was  put  in  chains.  Against  moral 
offences  he  was  still  more  severe.  He,  the  supposed 
example  of  licentiousness  with  women,  executed  his 
favourite  freedman  for  adultery  with  a  Roman  lady.  A 
senator  had  married  a  woman  two  days  after  her  divorce 
from  her  first  husband;  Caesar  pronounced  the  marriage 
void. 

Law  reforms  went  on.     Caesar  appointed  a  commission 
to  examine  the  huge  mass  of  precedents,  reduce  them  to 


B.  c.  45-44]  HONOURS  TO   C^SAR  4OI 

principles,  and  form  a  Digest.  He  called  in  Marcus 
Varro's  help  to  form  libraries  in  the  great  towns.  He  en- 
couraged physicians  and  men  of  science  to  settle  in  Rome, 
by  offering  them  the  freedom  of  the  city.  To  maintain 
the  free  population  of  Italy,  he  required  the  planters  and 
farmers  to  employ  a  fixed  proportion  of  free  labourers  on 
their  estates.  He  put  an  end  to  the  pleasant  tours  of  sena- 
tors at  the  expense  of  the  provinces;  their  proper  place  was 
Italy,  and  he  allowed  them  to  go  abroad  only  when  they 
were  in  office  or  in  the  service  of  the  governors.  He 
formed  large  engineering  plans,  a  plan  to  drain  the  Pon- 
tine marshes  and  the  Fucine  lake,  a  plan  to  form  a  new 
channel  for  the  Tiber,  another  to  improve  the  roads,  an- 
other to  cut  the  Isthmus  of  Corinth.  These  were  his  em- 
ployments during  the  few  months  of  life  which  were  left 
to  him  after  the  close  of  the  war.  His  health  was  growing 
visibly  weaker,  but  his  superhuman  energy  remained  unim- 
paired. He  was  even  meditating  and  was  making  prepara- 
tion for  a  last  campaign.  The  authority  of  Rome  on  the 
Eastern  frontier  had  not  recovered  from  the  effects  of  the 
destruction  of  the  army  of  Crassus.  The  Parthians  were 
insolent  and  aggressive.  Caesar  had  determined  to  go  in 
person  to  bring  them  to  their  senses  as  soon  as  he  could 
leave  Rome.  Partly,  it  was  said  that  he  felt  his  life  would 
be  safer  with  the  troops;  partly,  he  desired  to  leave  the  ad- 
ministration free  from  his  overpowering  presence,  that  it 
might  learn  to  go  alone;  partly  and  chiefly,  he  wished  to 
spend  such  time  as  might  remain  to  him  where  he  could  do 
most  service  to  his  country.  But  he  was  growing  weary 
of  the  thankless  burden.  He  was  heard  often  to  say  that 
he  had  lived  long  enough.  Men  of  high  nature  do  not 
find  the  task  of  governing  their  fellow-creatures  particu- 
larly delightful. 

The  Senate  meanwhile  was  occupied  in  showing  the  sin- 
cerity of  their  conversion  by  inventing  honours  for  their 
new  master,  and  smothering  him  with  distinction  since 
they  had  failed  to  defeat  him  in  the  field.     Few  recruits  had 

yet  joined  them,  and  they  were  still  substantially  the  old 
26 


402  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  45-44 

body.  They  voted  Caesar  the  name  of  Liberator.  They 
struck  medals  for  him,  in  which  he  was  described  as  Pater 
Patriae,  an  epithet  which  Cicero  had  once  with  quickened 
pulse  heard  given  to  himself  by  Pompey.  ''  Imperator  " 
had  been  a  title  conferred  hitherto  by  soldiers  in  the  field 
on  a  successful  general.  It  was  now  granted  to  Caesar  in 
a  special  sense,  and  was  made  hereditary  in  his  family,  with 
the  command-in-chief  of  the  army  for  his  life.  The  Sen- 
ate gave  him  also  the  charge  of  the  treasury.  They  made 
him  consul  for  ten  years.  Statues  were  to  be  erected  to 
him  in  the  temples,  on  the  Rostra,  and  in  the  Capitol,  where 
he  was  to  stand  as  an  eighth  among  the  seven  Kings  of 
Rome.  In  the  excess  of  their  adoration,  they  desired 
even  to  place  his  image  in  the  Temple  of  Quirinus  himself, 
with  an  inscription  to  him  as  Geo?  aviHt^ro? ,  the  invincible 
God.  Golden  chairs,  gilt  chariots,  triumphal  robes  were 
piled  one  upon  another  with  laurelled  fasces  and  laurelled 
wreaths.  His  birthday  was  made  a  perpetual  holiday, 
and  the  month  Quinctilis  ^  was  renamed,  in  honour 
of  him,  July.  A  temple  to  Concord  was  to  be 
erected  in  commemoration  of  his  clemency.  His  per- 
son was  declared  sacred,  and  to  injure  him  by  word 
or  deed  was  to  be  counted  sacrilege.  The  Fortune 
of  Caesar  was  introduced  into  the  constitutional  oath, 
and  the  Senate  took  a  solemn  pledge  to  maintain  his 
acts  inviolate.  Finally,  they  arrived  at  a  conclusion  that 
he  was  not  a  man  at  all;  no  longer  Caius  Julius,  but  Divus 
Julius,  a  God  or  the  Son  of  God.  A  temple  was  to  be 
built  to  Caesar  as  another  Quirinus,  and  Antony  was  to  be 
his  priest. 

Caesar  knew  the  meaning  of  all  this.  He  must  accept 
their  flattery  and  become  ridiculous,  or  he  must  appear  to 
treat  with  contumely  the  Senate  which  offered  it.  The  sin- 
ister purpose  started  occasionally  into  sight.  One  obse- 
quious senator  proposed  that  every  woman  in  Rome  should 
be  at  his  disposition,  and  filthy  libels  against  him  were 
set  floating  under  the  surface.  The  object,  he  perfectly 
understood,  "  was  to  draw  him  into  a  position  more  and 


B.  c.  45-44]  CvESAR  AND  THE  SENATE  4O3 

more  invidious,  that  he  might  the  sooner  perish."  ®  The 
praise  and  the  slander  of  such  men  were  aUke  indifferent 
to  him.  So  far  as  he  was  concerned,  they  might  call  him 
what  they  pleased;  God  in  public,  and  devil  in  their  epi- 
grams, if  it  so  seemed  good  to  them.  It  was  difficult  for 
him  to  know  precisely  how  to  act,  but  he  declined  his  di- 
vine honours;  and  he  declined  the  ten  years'  consulship. 
Though  he  was  sole  consul  for  the  year,  he  took  a  col- 
league, and  when  his  colleague  died  on  the  last  day  of 
office,  he  named  another,  that  the  customary  forms  might 
be  observed.  Let  him  do  what  he  would,  malice  still  mis- 
construed him.  Cicero,  the  most  prominent  now  of  his 
senatorial  flatterers,  was  the  sharpest  with  his  satire  behind 
the  scenes.  "  Caesar,"  he  said,  ''  had  given  them  so  active 
a  consul,  that  there  was  no  sleeping  under  him."  "^ 

Caesar  was  more  and  more  weary  of  it.  He  knew  that 
the  Senate  hated  him;  he  knew  that  they  would  kill  him,  if 
they  could.  All  these  men  whose  lips  were  running  over 
with  adulation,  were  longing  to  drive  their  daggers  into 
him.  He  was  willing  to  live,  if  they  would  let  him  live; 
but,  for  himself,  he  had  ceased  to  care  about  it.  He  dis- 
dained to  take  precautions  against  assassination.  On  his 
first  return  from  Spain,  he  had  been  attended  by  a  guard; 
but  he  dismissed  it  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  his 
friends,  and  went  daily  into  the  Senate-house  alone  and  un- 
armed. He  spoke  often  of  his  danger  with  entire  open- 
ness; but  he  seemed  to  think  that  he  had  some  security  in 
the  certainty  that  if  he  was  murdered  the  Civil  War  would 
break  out  again,  as  if  personal  hatred  was  ever  checked  by 
fear  of  consequences.  It  was  something  to  feel  that  he  had 
not  lived  in  vain.  The  Gauls  were  settling  into  peaceful 
habits.  The  soil  of  Gaul  was  now  as  well  cultivated  as 
Italy.  Barges  loaded  with  merchandise  were  passing 
freely  along  the  Rhone  and  the  Saone,  the  Loire,  the  Mo- 
selle, and  the  Rhine.^  The  best  of  the  chiefs  were  made 
senators  of  Rome,  and  the  people  were  happy  and  con- 
tented. What  he  had  done  for  Gaul,  he  might,  if  he  lived, 
do  for  Spain,  and  Africa,  and  the  East.     But  it  was  the 


404  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  45-44 

concern  of  others  more  than  of  himself.  "  Better,"  he  said, 
''  to  die  at  once  than  Hve  in  perpetual  dread  of  treason." 

But  Caesar  was  aware  that  conspiracies  were  being 
formed  against  him;  and  that  he  spoke  freely  of  his  danger, 
appears  from  a  speech  delivered  in  the  middle  of  the  winter 
by  Cicero  in  Caesar's  presence.  It  has  been  seen  that 
Cicero  had  lately  spoken  of  Caesar's  continuance  in  life  as 
a  disgrace  to  the  State.  It  has  been  seen,  also,  that  he  had 
long  thought  of  assassination  as  the  readiest  means  of  end- 
ing it.  He  asserted  afterward  that  he  had  not  been  con- 
sulted when  the  murder  was  actually  accomplished;  but  the 
perpetrators  were  assured  of  his  approbation,  and  when 
Caesar  was  killed  he  deliberately  claimed  for  himself  a  share 
of  the  guilt,  if  guilt  there  could  be  in  what  he  regarded  as 
the  most  glorious  achievement  in  human  history.®  It  may 
be  assumed,  therefore,  that  Cicero's  views  upon  the  sub- 
ject had  remained  unchanged  since  the  beginning  of  the 
Civil  War,  and  that  his  sentiments  were  no  secret  among 
his  friends. 

Cicero  is  the  second  great  figure  in  the  history  of  the 
time.  He  has  obtained  the  immortality  which  he  so  much 
desired,  and  we  are,  therefore,  entitled  and  obliged  to 
scrutinize  his  conduct  with  a  niceness  which  would  be  un- 
gracious and  unnecessary  in  the  case  of  a  less  distinguished 
man.  After  Pharsalia  he  had  concluded  that  the  continu- 
ance of  the  war  would  be  unjustifiable.  He  had  put  him- 
self in  communication  with  Antony  and  Caesar's  friend 
and  secretary  Oppius,  and  at  their  advice  he  went  from 
Greece  to  Brindisi,  to  remain  there  till  Caesar's  pleasure 
should  be  known.  He  was  very  miserable.  He  had  joined 
Pompey  with  confessed  reluctance,  and  family  quarrels  had 
followed  on  Pompey's  defeat.  His  brother  Quintus,  whom 
he  had  drawn  away  from  Caesar,  regretted  having  taken 
his  advice.  His  sons  and  nephews  were  equally  querulous 
and  dissatisfied;  and  for  himself,  he  dared  not  appear  in 
the  streets  of  Brindisi,  lest  Caesar's  soldiers  should  insult 
or  injure  him.  Antony,  however,  encouraged  him  to 
hope.     He  assured  him  that  Caesar  was  well  disposed  to 


B.  c.  44]  ATTITUDE  OF  CICERO  405 

him,  and  would  not  only  pardon  him,  but  would  show  him 
every  possible  favour,"  and  with  these  expectations  he  con- 
trived for  a  while  to  comfort  himself.  He  had  regarded 
the  struggle  as  over,  and  Caesar's  side  as  completely  vic- 
torious. But  gradually  the  scene  seemed  to  change. 
Caesar  was  long  in  returning.  The  Optimates  rallied  in 
Africa,  and  there  was  again  a  chance  that  they  might  win 
after  all.  His  first  thought  was  always  for  himself.  If  the 
constitution  survived  under  Caesar,  as  he  was  inclined  to 
think  that  in  some  shape  it  would,  he  had  expected  that  a 
place  would  be  found  in  it  for  him.^^  But  how  if  Caesar 
himself  should  not  survive?  How  if  he  should  be  killed  in 
Alexandria?  How  if  he  should  be  defeated  by  Metellus 
Scipio?  He  described  himself  as  excruciated  with  anxi- 
ety." Through  the  year  which  followed  he  wavered  from 
day  to  day  as  the  prospect  varied,  now  cursing  his  folly  for 
having  followed  the  Senate  to  Greece,  now  for  having  de- 
serted them,  blaming  himself  at  one  time  for  his  indeci- 
sion, at  another  for  having  committed  himself  to  either 
side.^* 

Gradually  his  alarms  subsided.  The  Senate's  party  was 
finally  overthrown.  Caesar  wrote  to  him  affectionately, 
and  allowed  him  to  retain  his  title  as  Imperator.  When 
it  appeared  that  he  had  nothing  personally  to  fear,  he  re- 
covered his  spirits,  and  he  recovered  along  with  them  a 
hope  that  the  constitution  might  be  restored,  after  all,  by 
other  means  than  war.  "  Caesar  could  not  live  forever,  and 
there  were  many  ways  in  which  a  man  might  die." 

Caesar  had  dined  with  him  in  the  country,  on  his  way 
home  from  Spain.  He  had  been  as  kind  as  Cicero  could 
wish,  but  had  avoided  politics.  When  Caesar  went  to 
Rome,  Cicero  followed  him,  resumed  his  place  in  the  Sen- 
ate, which  was  then  in  the  full  fervour  of  its  affected  adula- 
tion, and  took  an  early  opportunity  of  speaking.  Marcus 
Marcellus  had  been  in  exile  since  Pharsalia.  The  Senate 
had  interceded  for  his  pardon,  and  Caesar  had  granted  it, 
and  granted  it  with  a  completeness  which  exceeded  ex- 
pectation.    Cicero  rose  to  thank  him  in  his  presence,  in 


406  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  44 

terms  which  most  certainly  did  not  express  his  real  feelings, 
whatever  may  have  been  the  purpose  which  they  concealed. 

*'  He  had  long  been  silent,"  he  said,  ''  not  from  fear,  but 
from  grief  and  diffidence.  The  time  for  silence  was  past. 
Thenceforward  he  intended  to  speak  his  thoughts  freely  in 
his  ancient  manner.  Such  kindness,  such  unheard  of 
generosity,  such  moderation  in  power,  such  incredible  and 
almost  godlike  wisdom,  he  felt  himself  unable  to  pass  over 
without  giving  expression  to  his  emotions."  ^*  No  flow  of 
genius,  no  faculty  of  speech  or  writing,  could  adequately 
describe  Caesar's  actions,  yet  on  that  day  he  had  yet 
achieved  a  greater  glory.  Often  had  Cicero  thought,  and 
often  had  said  to  others,  that  no  king  or  general  had  ever 
performed  such  exploits  as  Caesar.  In  war,  however, 
officers,  soldiers,  allies,  circumstances,  fortune,  claimed  a 
share  in  the  result;  and  there  were  victories  greater  than 
could  be  won  on  the  battlefield,  where  the  honour  was 
undivided. 

''  To  have  conquered  yourself,"  he  said,  addressing  Cae- 
sar directly,  "  to  have  restrained  your  resentment,  not  only 
to  have  restored  a  distinguished  opponent  to  his  civil  rights, 
but  to  have  given  him  more  than  he  had  lost,  is  a  deed 
which  raises  you  above  humanity,  and  makes  you  most 
like  to  God.  Your  wars  will  be  spoken  of  to  the  end  of 
time  in  all  lands  and  tongues,  but  in  tales  of  battle  we  are 
defeated  by  the  shoutings  and  the  blare  of  trumpets.  Jus- 
tice, mercy,  moderation,  wisdom,  we  admire  even  in  fiction, 
or  in  persons  whom  we  have  never  seen;  how  much  more 
must  we  admire  them  in  you,  who  are  present  here  before 
us,  and  in  whose  face  we  read  a  purpose  to  restore  us  to 
such  remnants  of  our  liberty  as  have  survived  the  war! 
How  can  we  praise,  how  can  we  love  you  sufficiently?  By 
the  gods,  the  very  walls  of  this  house  are  eloquent  with 
gratitude.  .  .  No  conqueror  in  a  civil  war  was  ever  so  mild 
as  you  have  been.  To-day  you  have  surpassed  yourself. 
You  have  overcome  victory  in  giving  back  the  spoils  to 
the  conquered.     By  the  laws  of  war  we  were  under  your 


B.  c.  44]  SPEECH   OF  CICERO  407 

feet,  to  be  destroyed  if  you  so  willed.  We  live  by  your 
goodness.  .  .  Observe,  conscript  fathers,  how  compre- 
hensive is  Caesar's  sentence.  We  were  in  arms  against 
him,  how  impelled  I  know  not.  He  cannot  acquit  us  of 
mistake,  but  he  holds  us  innocent  of  crime,  for  he  has  given 
us  back  Marcellus,  at  your  entreaty.  Me,  of  his  own  free 
will,  he  has  restored  to  myself  and  to  my  country.  He 
has  brought  back  the  most  illustrious  survivors  of  the  war. 
You  see  them  gathered  here  in  this  full  assembly.  He  has 
not  regarded  them  as  enemies.  He  has  concluded  that 
you  entered  into  the  conflict  with  him  rather  in  ignorance 
and  unfounded  fear  than  from  any  motives  of  ambition  or 
hostility. 

"  For  me,  I  was  always  for  peace.  Caesar  was  for  peace, 
so  was  Marcellus.  There  were  violent  men  among  you, 
whose  success  Marcellus  dreaded.  Each  party  had  a  cause. 
I  will  not  compare  them.  I  will  compare  rather  the  vic- 
tory of  the  one  with  the  possible  victory  of  the  other. 
Caesar's  wars  ended  with  the  last  battle.  The  sword  is 
now  sheathed.  Those  whom  we  have  lost  fell  in  the  fury 
of  the  fight,  not  one  by  the  resentment  of  the  conqueror. 
Caesar,  if  he  could,  would  bring  back  to  life  many  who  lie 
dead.  For  the  others,  we  all  feared  what  they  might  do 
if  the  day  had  been  theirs.  They  not  only  threatened 
those  that  were  in  arms  agamst  them,  but  those  who  sat 
quietly  at  home." 

Cicero  then  said  that  he  had  heard  a  fear  of  assassina- 
tion expressed  by  Caesar.  By  whom,  he  asked,  could  such 
an  attempt  be  made?  Not  by  those  whom  he  had  for- 
given, for  none  were  more  attached  to  him.  Not  by  his 
comrades,  for  they  could  not  be  so  mad  as  to  conspire 
against  the  general  to  whom  they  owed  all  that  they  pos- 
sessed. Not  by  his  enemies,  for  he  had  no  enemies. 
Those  who  had  been  his  enemies  were  either  dead  through 
their  own  obstinacy,  or  were  alive  through  his  generosity. 
It  was  possible,  however,  he  admitted,  that  there  might  be 
some  such  danger. 


408  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  44 

"  Be  you,  therefore,"  he  said,  again  speaking  to  Caesar, 
"  be  you  watchful,  and  let  us  be  diligent.  Who  is  so  care- 
less of  his  own  and  the  common  welfare  as  to  be  ignorant 
that  on  your  preservation  his  own  depends,  and  that  all  our 
lives  are  bound  up  in  yours?  I,  as  in  duty  bound,  think  of 
you  by  night  and  day;  I  ponder  over  the  accidents  of  hu- 
manity, the  uncertainty  of  health,  the  fraility  of  our  com- 
mon nature,  and  I  grieve  to  think  that  the  Commonwealth 
which  ought  to  be  immortal  should  hang  on  the  breath  of 
a  single  man.  If  to  these  perils  be  added  a  nefarious  con- 
spiracy, to  what  god  can  we  turn  for  help?  War  has  laid 
prostrate  our  institutions,  you  alone  can  restore  them. 
The  courts  of  justice  need  to  be  reconstituted,  credit  to  be 
recovered,  license  to  be  repressed,  the  thinned  ranks  of  the 
citizens  to  be  repaired.  The  bonds  of  society  are  relaxed. 
In  such  a  war,  and  with  such  a  temper  in  men's  hearts,  the 
State  must  have  lost  many  of  its  greatest  ornaments,  be 
the  event  what  it  would.  These  wounds  need  healing,  and 
you  alone  can  heal  them.  With  sorrow  I  have  heard  you 
say  that  you  have  lived  long  enough.  For  nature  it  may 
be  that  you  have,  and  perhaps  for  glory.  But  for  your 
country  you  have  not.  Put  away,  I  beseech  you,  this  con- 
tempt of  death.  Be  not  wise  at  our  expense.  You  repeat 
often,  I  am  told,  that  you  do  not  wish  for  longer  life.  I 
believe  you  mean  it;  nor  should  I  blame  you,  if  you  had 
only  to  think  of  yourself.  But  by  your  actions  you  have 
involved  the  welfare  of  each  citizen  and  of  the  whole  Com- 
monwealth in  your  own.  Your  work  is  unfinished:  the 
foundations  are  hardly  laid,  and  is  it  for  you  to  be  measur- 
ing calmly  your  term  of  days  by  your  desires?  ...  If, 
Caesar,  the  result  of  your  immortal  deeds  is  to  be  no  more 
than  this,  that,  after  defeating  your  enemies,  you  are  to 
leave  the  State  in  the  condition  in  which  it  now  stands, 
your  splendid  qualities  will  be  more  admired  than  hon- 
oured. It  remains  for  you  to  rebuild  the  constitution. 
Live  till  this  is  done.  Live  till  you  see  your  country  tran- 
quil, and  at  peace.  Then,  when  your  last  debt  is  paid, 
when  you  have  filled  the  measure  of  your  existence  to  over- 


B.  c.  44]  SPEECH   OF  CICERO  4O9 

flowing,  then  say,  if  you  will,  that  you  have  had  enough  of 
life.  Your  life  is  not  the  life  which  is  bounded  by  the 
union  of  your  soul  and  body;  your  life  is  that  which  shall 
continue  fresh  in  the  memory  of  ages  to  come,  which  pos- 
terity will  cherish,  and  eternity  itself  keep  guard  over. 
Much  has  been  done  which  men  will  admire:  much  remains 
to  be  done,  which  they  can  praise.  They  will  read  with 
wonder  of  the  empires  and  provinces,  of  the  Rhine,  the 
ocean,  and  the  Nile,  of  battles  without  number,  of  amaz- 
ing victories,  of  countless  monuments  and  triumphs;  but 
unless  this  Commonwealth  be  wisely  re-established  in  in- 
stitutions by  you  bestowed  upon  us,  your  name  will  travel 
widely  over  the  world,  but  will  have  no  stable  habitation; 
and  those  who  come  after  us  will  dispute  about  you  as  we 
have  disputed.  Some  will  extol  you  to  the  skies,  others 
will  find  something  wanting,  and  the  most  important  ele- 
ment of  all.  Remember  the  tribunal  before  which  you 
will  hereafter  stand.  The  ages  that  are  to  be  will  try  you, 
with  minds,  it  may  be,  less  prejudiced  than  ours,  uninflu- 
enced either  by  desire  to  please  you  or  by  envy  of  your 
greatness. 

"  Our  dissensions  have  been  crushed  by  the  arms,  and 
extinguished  by  the  lenity,  of  the  conqueror.  Let  all  of 
us,  not  the  wise  only,  but  every  citizen  who  has  ordinary 
sense,  be  guided  by  a  single  desire.  Salvation  there  can 
be  none  for  us,  Caesar,  unless  you  are  preserved.  There- 
fore, we  exhort  you,  we  beseech  you  to  watch  over  your 
own  safety.  You  believe  that  you  are  threatened  by  a 
secret  peril.  From  my  own  heart  I  say,  and  I  speak  for 
others  as  well  as  for  myself,  we  will  stand  as  sentries  over 
your  safety,  and  we  will  interpose  our  own  bodies  between 
you  and  any  danger  which  may  menace  you."  " 

Such,  in  compressed  form,  for  necessary  brevity,  but  de- 
serving to  be  studied  in  its  own  brilliant  language,  was  the 
speech  delivered  in  the  Senate  in  Caesar's  presence,  within 
a  few  weeks  of  his  murder.  The  authenticity  of  it  has  been 
questioned,  but  without  result  beyond  creating  a  doubt 


4IO  JULIUS  CESAR  [b.  c.  44 

whether  it  was  edited  and  corrected,  according  to  his  usual 
habit,  by  Cicero  himself.  The  external  evidence  of  genu- 
ineness is  as  good  as  for  any  of  his  other  orations,  and  the 
Senate  possessed  no  other  speaker  known  to  us,  to  whom, 
with  any  probability,  so  splendid  an  illustration  of  Roman 
eloquence  could  be  assigned. 

Now,  therefore,  let  us  turn  to  the  Second  Philippic  de- 
livered in  the  following  summer  when  the  deed  had  been 
accomplished,  which  Cicero  professed  to  hold  in  so  much 
abhorrence.  Then,  fiercely  challenging  for  himself  a  share 
in  the  glory  of  tyrannicide,  he  exclaimed: 

"  What  difference  is  there  between  advice  beforehand 
and  approbation  afterwards?  What  does  it  matter 
whether  I  wished  it  to  be  done,  or  rejoiced  that  it  was 
done?  Is  there  a  man,  save  Antony  and  those  who  were 
glad  to  have  Caesar  reign  over  us,  that  did  not  wish  him  to 
be  killed,  or  that  disapproved  when  he  was  killed?  All 
were  in  fault,  for  all  the  Boni  joined  in  killing  him,  so  far 
as  lay  in  them.  Some  were  not  consulted,  some  wanted 
courage,  some  opportunity.     All  were  willing."  ^® 

Expressions  so  vehemently  opposite  compel  us  to  com- 
pare them.  Was  it  that  Cicero  was  so  carried  away  by  the 
stream  of  his  oratory,  that  he  spoke  like  an  actor,  under 
artificial  emotion  which  the  occasion  called  for?  Was  it 
that  he  was  deliberately  trying  to  persuade  Csesar  that  from 
the  Senate  he  had  nothing  to  fear,  and  so  to  put  him  off  his 
guard?  If,  as  he  declared,  he  himself  and  the  Boni,  who 
were  listening  to  him,  desired  so  unanimously  to  see  Csesar 
killed,  how  else  can  his  language  be  interpreted?  Cicero 
stands  before  the  tribunal  of  posterity,  to  which  he  was  so 
fond  of  appealing.  In  him,  too,  while  "  there  is  much  to 
admire,"  "  something  may  be  found  wanting." 

Meanwhile  the  Senate  went  its  way,  still  inventing  fresh 
titles  and  conferring  fresh  powers.  Caesar  said  that  these 
vain  distinctions  needed  limitation,  rather  than  increase; 
but  the  flattery  had  a  purpose  in  it,  and  would  not  be 
checked. 


B.  c.  44]  THE   KINGSHIP  4II 

One  day  a  deputation  waited  on  him  with  the  proffer  of 
some  ''  new  marvel."  ^^  He  was  sitting  in  front  of  the 
Temple  of  Venus  Genetrix,  and  when  the  senators  ap- 
proached he  neglected  to  rise  to  receive  them.  Some  said 
that  he  was  moving,  but  that  Cornelius  Balbus  pulled  him 
down.  Others  said  that  he  was  unwell.  Pontius  Aquila, 
a  tribune,  had  shortly  before  refused  to  rise  to  Caesar.  The 
senators  thought  he  meant  to  read  them  a  lesson  in  re- 
turn. He  intended  to  be  king,  it  seemed;  the  constitu- 
tion was  gone,  another  Tarquin  was  about  to  seize  the 
throne  of  Republican  Rome. 

Caesar  was  king  in  fact,  and  to  recognise  facts  is  more 
salutary  than  to  ignore  them.  An  acknowledgment  of 
Caesar  as  king  might  have  made  the  problem  of  reorganiza- 
tion easier  than  it  proved.  The  army  had  thought  of  it. 
He  was  on  the  point  of  starting  for  Parthia,  and  a  prophecy 
had  said  that  the  Parthians  could  only  be  conquered  by  a 
king.  But  the  Roman  people  were  sensitive  about  names. 
Though  their  liberties  were  restricted  for  the  present,  they 
liked  to  hope  that  one  day  the  Forum  might  recover  its 
greatness.  The  Senate,  meditating  on  the  insult  which 
they  had  received,  concluded  that  Caesar  might  be  tempted, 
and  that  if  they  could  bring  him  to  consent  he  would  lose 
the  people's  hearts.  They  had  already  made  him  Dicta- 
tor for  life;  they  voted  next  that  he  really  should  be  King, 
and,  not  formally  perhaps,  but  tentatively,  they  offered  him 
the  crown.  He  was  sounded  as  to  whether  he  would  ac- 
cept it.  He  understood  the  snare,  and  refused.  What 
was  to  be  done  next?  He  would  soon  be  gone  to  the 
East.  Rome  and  its  hollow  adulations  would  lie  behind 
him,  and  their  one  opportunity  would  be  gone  also.  They 
employed  someone  to  place  a  diadem  on  the  head  of  his 
statue  which  stood  upon  the  Rostra.^®  It  was  done  pub- 
licly, in  the  midst  of  a  vast  crowd,  in  Caesar's  presence. 
Two  eager  tribunes  tore  the  diadem  down,  and  ordered  the 
offender  into  custody.  The  treachery  of  the  Senate  was 
not  the  only  danger.  His  friends  in  the  army  had  the  same 
ambition  for  him.     A  few  days  later  as  he  was  riding 


412  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  44 

through  the  streets,  he  was  saluted  as  King  by  the  mob. 
Caesar  answered  calmly  that  he  was  not  King,  but  Caesar, 
and  there  the  matter  might  have  ended;  but  the  tribunes 
rushed  into  the  crowd  to  arrest  the  leaders;  a  riot  followed, 
for  which  Caesar  blamed  them;  they  complained  noisily;  he 
brought  their  conduct  before  the  Senate,  and  they  were 
censured  and  suspended;  but  suspicion  was  doing  its  work, 
and  honest  republican  hearts  began  to  heat  and  kindle. 

The  kingship  assumed  a  more  serious  form  on  the  15th 
of  February  at  the  Lupercalia — the  ancient  carnival. 
Caesar  was  in  his  chair,  in  his  consular  purple,  wearing 
a  wreath  of  bay,  wrought  in  gold.  The  honour  of  the 
wreath  was  the  only  distinction  which  he  had  accepted 
from  the  Senate  with  pleasure.  He  retained  a  remnant  of 
youthful  vanity,  and  the  twisted  leaves  concealed  his  bald- 
ness. Antony,  his  colleague  in  the  consulship,  approached 
with  a  tiara,  and  placed  it  on  Caesar's  head,  saying,  "  The 
people  give  you  this  by  my  hand."  That  Antony  had  no 
sinister  purpose  is  obvious.  He  perhaps  spoke  for  the 
army;  ^®  or  it  may  be  that  Caesar  himself  suggested  An- 
tony's action,  that  he  might  end  the  agitation  of  so 
dangerous  a  subject.  He  answered  in  a  loud  voice  "  that 
the  Romans  had  no  king  but  God,"  and  ordered  that 
the  tiara  should  be  taken  to  the  Capitol,  and  placed 
on  the  statue  of  Jupiter  Olympius.  The  crowd  burst  into 
an  enthusiastic  cheer;  and  an  inscription  on  a  brass  tablet 
recorded  that  the  Roman  people  had  offered  Caesar  the 
crown  by  the  hands  of  the  consul  and  that  Caesar  had  re- 
fused it. 

The  question  of  the  kingship  was  over;  but  a  vague 
alarm  had  been  created,  which  answered  the  purpose  of 
the  Optimates.  Caesar  was  at  their  mercy  any  day.  They 
had  sworn  to  maintain  all  his  acts.  They  had  sworn,  after 
Cicero's  speech,  individually  and  collectively  to  defend  his 
life.  Caesar,  whether  he  believed  them  sincere  or  not,  had 
taken  them  at  their  word,  and  came  daily  to  the  Senate 
unarmed  and  without  a  guard.  He  had  a  protection  in 
the  people.     If  the  Optimates  killed  him  without  prepara- 


B.  c.  44]  THE  CONSPIRACY.  413 

tion,  they  knew  that  they  would  be  immediately  massa- 
cred. But  an  atmosphere  of  suspicion  and  uncertainty 
had  been  successfully  generated,  of  which  they  determined 
to  take  immediate  advantage.  There  were  no  troops  in 
the  city.  Lepidus,  Caesar's  master  of  the  horse,  who  had 
been  appointed  governor  of  Gaul,  was  outside  the  gates, 
with  a  few  cohorts;  but  Lepidus  was  a  person  of  feeble 
character,  and  they  trusted  to  be  able  to  deal  with  him. 

Sixty  senators,  in  all,  were  parties  to  the  immediate  con- 
spiracy. Of  these  nine-tenths  were  members  of  the  old 
faction  whom  Caesar  had  pardoned,  and  who,  of  all  his 
acts,  resented  most  that  he  had  been  able  to  pardon  them. 
They  were  the  men  who  had  stayed  at  home,  like  Cicero, 
from  the  fields  of  Thapsus  and  Munda,  and  had  pretended 
penitence  and  submission  that  they  might  take  an  easier 
road  to  rid  themselves  of  their  enemy.  Their  motives 
were  the  ambition  of  their  order  and  personal  hatred  of 
Caesar;  but  they  persuaded  themselves  that  they  were  ani- 
mated by  patriotism,  and  as,  in  their  hands,  the  Republic 
had  been  a  mockery  of  liberty,  so  they  aimed  at  restoring 
it  by  a  mock  tyrannicide.  Their  oaths  and  their  profes- 
sions were  nothing  to  them.  If  they  were  entitled  to  kill 
Caesar,  they  were  entitled  equally  to  deceive  him.  No 
stronger  evidence  is  needed  of  the  demoralization  of  the 
Roman  Senate  than  the  completeness  with  which  they 
were  able  to  disguise  from  themselves  the  baseness  of  their 
treachery.  One  man  only  they  were  able  to  attract  into 
co-operation  who  had  a  reputation  for  honesty,  and  could 
be  conceived,  without  absurdity,  to  be  animated  by  a  dis- 
interested purpose. 

Marcus  Brutus  was  the  son  of  Cato's  sister  Servilia,  the 
friend,  and  a  scandal  said  the  mistress,  of  Caesar.  That  he 
was  Caesar's  son  was  not  too  absurd  for  the  credulity  of 
Roman  drawing  rooms.  Brutus  himself  could  not  have 
believed  in  the  existence  of  such  a  relation,  for  he  was 
deeply  attached  to  his  mother;  and  although,  under 
the  influence  of  his  uncle  Cato,  he  had  taken  the 
Senate's   side   in   the  war,   he   had   accepted   afterwards 


4H  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  44 

not  pardon  only  from  Caesar,  but  favours  of  many 
kinds,  for  which  he  had  professed,  and  probably 
felt,  some  real  gratitude.  He  had  married  Cato's 
daughter,  Portia,  and  on  Cato's  death  had  published  a 
eulogy  upon  him.  Caesar  left  him  free  to  think  and  write 
what  he  pleased.  He  had  made  him  praetor;  he  had  nomi- 
nated him  to  the  governorship  of  Macedonia.  Brutus 
was  perhaps  the  only  member  of  the  senatorial  party  in 
whom  Caesar  felt  genuine  confidence.  His  known  integ- 
rity, and  Caesar's  acknowledged  regard  for  him,  made  his 
accession  to  the  conspiracy  an  object  of  particular  impor- 
tance. The  name  of  Brutus  would  be  a  guaranty  to  the 
people  of  rectitude  of  intention.  Brutus,  as  the  world 
went,  was  of  more  than  average  honesty.  He  had  sworn 
to  be  faithful  to  Caesar  as  the  rest  had  sworn,  and  an  oath 
with  him  was  not  a  thing  to  be  emotionalized  away;  but 
he  was  a  fanatical  republican,  a  man  of  gloomy  habits, 
given  to  dreams  and  omens,  and  easily  liable  to  be  influ- 
enced by  appeals  to  visionary  feelings.  Caius  Cassius,  his 
brother-in-law,  was  employed  to  work  upon  him.  Cas- 
sius, too,  was  praetor  that  year,  having  been  also  nominated 
to  office  by  Caesar.  He  knew  Brutus,  he  knew  where  and 
how  to  move  him.  He  reminded  him  of  the  great  tra- 
ditions of  his  name.  A  Brutus  had  delivered  Rome  from 
the  Tarquins.  The  blood  of  a  Brutus  was  consecrated  to 
liberty.  This,  too,  was  mockery:  Brutus,  who  expelled  the 
Tarquins,  put  his  sons  to  death,  and  died  childless;  Mar- 
cus Brutus  came  of  good  plebeian  family,  with  no  glories 
of  tyrannicide  about  them;  but  an  imaginary  genealogy 
suited  well  with  the  spurious  heroics  which  veiled  the  mo- 
tives of  Caesar's  murderers. 

Brutus,  once  wrought  upon,  became  with  Cassius  the 
most  ardent  in  the  cause  which  assumed  the  aspect  to  him 
of  a  sacred  duty.  Behind  them  were  the  crowd  of  sena- 
tors of  the  familiar  faction,  and  others  worse  than  they, 
who  had  not  even  the  excuse  of  having  been  partisans  of 
the  beaten  cause;  men  who  had  fought  at  Caesar's  side  till 
the  war  was  over,  and  believed,  like  Labienus,  that  to  them 


B.  c.  44]  THE  CONSPIRACY  415 

Caesar  owed  his  fortune,  and  that  he  alone  ought  not  to 
reap  the  harvest.  One  of  these  was  Trebonius,  who  had 
misconducted  himself  in  Spain,  and  was  smarting  under 
the  recollection  of  his  own  failures.  Trebonius  had  long 
before  sounded  Antony  on  the  desirableness  of  removing 
their  chief.  Antony,  though  he  remained  himself  true,  had 
unfortunately  kept  his  friend's  counsel.  Trebonius  had 
been  named  by  Caesar  for  a  future  consulship,  but  a  distant 
reward  was  too  little  for  him.  Another  and  a  yet  baser 
traitor  was  Decimus  Brutus,  whom  Caesar  valued  and 
trusted  beyond  all  his  officers,  whom  he  had  selected  as 
guardian  for  Augustus,  and  had  noticed,  as  was  seen  after- 
wards, with  special  affection  in  his  will.  The  services  of 
these  men  were  invaluable  to  the  conspirators  on  account 
of  their  influence  with  the  army.  Decimus  Brutus,  like 
Labienus,  had  enriched  himself  in  Caesar's  campaigns,  and 
had  amassed  near  half  a  million  of  English  money.^"  It 
may  have  been  easy  to  persuade  him  and  Trebonius  that  a 
grateful  Republic  would  consider  no  recompense  too  large 
to  men  who  would  sacrifice  their  commander  to  their  coun- 
try. To  Caesar  they  could  be  no  more  than  satellites;  the 
first  prizes  of  the  Empire  would  be  offered  to  the  choice 
of  the  saviours  of  the  constitution. 

So  composed  was  this  memorable  band,  to  whom  was  to 
fall  the  bad  distinction  of  completing  the  ruin  of  the  sena- 
torial rule.  Caesar  would  have  spared  something  of  it; 
enough,  perhaps,  to  have  thrown  up  shoots  again  as  soon 
as  he  had  himself  passed  away  in  the  common  course  of 
nature.  By  combining  in  a  focus  the  most  hateful  char- 
acteristics of  the  order,  by  revolting  the  moral  instincts  of 
mankind  by  ingratitude  and  treachery,  they  stripped  their 
cause  by  their  own  hands  of  the  false  glamour  which  they 
hoped  to  throw  over  it.  The  profligacy  and  avarice,  the 
cynical  disregard  of  obligation,  which  had  marked  the 
Senate's  supremacy  for  a  century,  had  exhibited  abund- 
antly their  unfitness  for  the  high  functions  which  had  de- 
scended to  them;  but  custom  and  natural  tenderness  for  a 
form  of  government,  the  past  history  of  which  had  been  so 


4l6  JULIUS  CiESAR  [B.  c.  44 

glorious,  might  have  continued  still  to  shield  them  from 
the  penalty  of  their  iniquities.  The  murder  of  Caesar  filled 
the  measure  of  their  crimes,  and  gave  the  last  and  neces- 
sary impulse  to  the  closing  act  of  the  revolution. 

Thus  the  Ides  of  March  drew  near.  Caesar  was  to  set 
out  in  a  few  days  for  Parthia.  Decimus  Brutus  was  going, 
as  governor,  to  the  north  of  Italy,  Lepidus  to  Gaul,  Mar- 
cus Brutus  to  Macedonia,  and  Trebonius  to  Asia  Minor. 
Antony,  Caesar's  colleague  in  the  consulship,  was  to  remain 
in  Italy.  Dolabella,  Cicero's  son-in-law,  was  to  be  consul 
with  him  as  soon  as  Caesar  should  have  left  for  the  East. 
The  foreign  appointments  were  all  made  for  five  years, 
and  in  another  week  the  party  would  be  scattered.  The 
time  for  action  had  come,  if  action  there  was  to  be. 
Papers  were  dropped  in  Brutus's  room,  bidding  him  awake 
from  his  sleep.  On  the  statue  of  Junius  Brutus  some  hot 
republican  wrote  "Would  that  thou  wast  alive!"  The 
assassination  in  itself  was  easy,  for  Caesar  would  take  no 
precautions.  So  portentous  an  intention  could  not  be  kept 
entirely  secret;  many  friends  warned  him  to  beware;  but 
he  disdained  too  heartily  the  worst  that  his  enemies  could 
do  to  him  to  vex  himself  with  thinking  of  them,  and  he 
forbade  the  subject  to  be  mentioned  any  more  in  his  pres- 
ence. Portents,  prophecies,  soothsayings,  frightful  aspects 
in  the  sacrifices,  natural  growths  of  alarm  and  excitement, 
were  equally  vain.  *'  Am  I  to  be  frightened,"  he  said,  in 
answer  to  some  report  of  the  haruspices,  ''  because  a  sheep 
is  without  a  heart?  " 

An  important  meeting  of  the  Senate  had  been  called  for 
the  Ides  (the  15th)  of  the  month.  The  Pontifices,  it  was 
whispered,  intended  to  bring  on  again  the  question  of  the 
kingship  before  Caesar's  departure.  The  occasion  would 
be  appropriate.  The  Senate-house  itself  was  a  convenient 
scene  of  operations.  The  conspirators  met  at  supper  the 
evening  before  at  Cassius's  house.  Cicero,  to  his  regret, 
was  not  invited.  The  plan  was  simple,  and  was  rapidly 
arranged.  Caesar  would  attend  unarmed.  The  senators 
not  in  the  secret  would  be  unarmed  also.     The  party  who 


B.  c.  44]  THE   EVE   OF  THE   MURDER  417 

intended  to  act  were  to  provide  themselves  with  poniards, 
which  could  be  easily  concealed  in  their  paper  boxes.  So 
far  all  was  simple;  but  a  question  rose  whether  Caesar  only 
was  to  be  killed,  or  whether  Antony  and  Lepidus  were  to 
be  despatched  along  with  him.  They  decided  that  Caesar's 
death  would  be  sufficient.  To  spill  blood  without  neces- 
sity would  mar,  it  was  thought,  the  sublimity  of  their  ex- 
ploit. Some  of  them  liked  Antony.  None  supposed  that 
either  he  or  Lepidus  would  be  dangerous  when  Caesar  was 
gone.  In  this  resolution  Cicero  thought  that  they  made 
a  fatal  mistake;  ^^  fine  emotions  were  good  in  their  place, 
in  the  perorations  of  speeches  and  such  like;  Antony,  as 
Cicero  admitted,  had  been  signally  kind  to  him;  but  the 
killing  Caesar  was  a  serious  business,  and  his  friends  should 
have  died  along  with  him.  It  was  determined  other- 
wise. Antony  and  Lepidus  were  not  to  be  touched.  For 
the  rest,  the  assassins  had  merely  to  be  in  their  places  in 
the  Senate  in  good  time.  When  Caesar  entered,  Trebonius 
was  to  detain  Antony  in  conversation  at  the  door.  The 
others  were  to  gather  about  Caesar's  chair  on  pretence  of 
presenting  a  petition,  and  so  could  make  an  end.  A  gang 
of  gladiators  were  to  be  secreted  in  the  adjoining  theatre 
to  be  ready  should  any  unforeseen  difficulty  present  itself. 
The  same  evening,  the  14th  of  March,  Caesar  was  at  a 
"  Last  Supper  "  at  the  house  of  Lepidus.  The  conversa- 
tion turned  on  death,  and  on  the  kind  of  death  which  was 
most  to  be  desired.  Caesar,  who  was  signing  papers  while 
the  rest  were  talking,  looked  up  and  said,  ''  A  sudden  one.'' 
When  great  men  die,  imagination  insists  that  all  nature 
shall  have  felt  the  shock.  Strange  stories  were  told  in  after 
years  of  the  uneasy  labours  of  the  elements  that  night. 

"  A  little  ere  the  mightiest  Julius  fell, 
The  graves  did  open,  and  the  sheeted  dead 
Did  squeak  and  jibber  in  the  Roman  streets." 

The  armour  of  Mars,  which  stood  in  the  hall  of  the  Pontifi- 
cal Palace,  crashed  down  upon  the  pavement.     The  door 
of  Caesar's  room  flew  open.     Calpurnia  dreamt  her  hus- 
27 


4l8  JULIUS  CESAR  [B.C.  44 

band  was  murdered,  and  that  she  saw  him  ascending  into 
heaven,  and  received  by  the  hand  of  God."  In  the  morn- 
ing the  sacrifices  were  again  unfavourable.  Caesar  was 
restless.  Some  natural  disorder  affected  his  spirits,  and 
his  spirits  were  reacting  on  his  body.  Contrary  to  his 
usual  habit,  he  gave  way  to  depression.  He  decided,  at  his 
wife's  entreaty,  that  he  would  not  attend  the  Senate  that 
day. 

The  house  was  full.  The  conspirators  were  in  their 
places  with  their  daggers  ready.  Attendants  came  in  to 
remove  Caesar's  chair.  It  was  announced  that  he  was  not 
coming.  Delay  might  be  fatal.  They  conjectured  that  he 
already  suspected  something.  A  day's  respite,  and  all 
might  be  discovered.  His  familiar  friend  whom  he  trusted 
— the  coincidence  is  striking! — was  employed  to  betray 
him.  Decimus  Brutus,  whom  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
distrust,  went  to  entreat  his  attendance,  giving  reasons  to 
which  he  knew  that  Caesar  would  listen,  unless  the  plot 
had  been  actually  betrayed.  It  was  now  eleven  in  the  fore- 
noon. Caesar  shook  off  his  uneasiness,  and  rose  to  go. 
As  he  crossed  the  hall,  his  statue  fell,  and  shivered  on  the 
stones.  Some  servant,  perhaps,  had  heard  whispers,  and 
wished  to  warn  him.  As  he  still  passed  on,  a  stranger 
thrust  a  scroll  into  his  hand,  and  begged  him  to  read  it  on 
the  spot.  It  contained  a  list  of  the  conspirators,  with  a 
clear  account  of  the  plot.  He  supposed  it  to  be  a  petition, 
and  placed  it  carelessly  among  his  other  papers.  The  fate 
of  the  Empire  hung  upon  a  thread,  but  the  thread  was  not 
broken.  As  Caesar  had  lived  to  reconstruct  the  Roman 
world,  so  his  death  was  necessary  to  finish  the  work.  He 
went  on  to  the  Curia,  and  the  senators  said  to  themselves 
that  the  augurs  had  foretold  his  fate,  but  he  would  not 
listen;  he  was  doomed  for  his  ''  contempt  of  religion."  ^^ 

Antony,  who  was  in  attendance,  was  detained,  as  had 
been  arranged,  by  Trebonius.  Caesar  entered,  and  took 
his  seat.  His  presence  awed  men,  in  spite  of  themselves, 
and  the  conspirators  had  determined  to  act  at  once,  lest 
they  should  lose  courage  to  act  at  all.      He  was  familiar 


B.  c.  44]  MURDER   OF   C^SAR  419 

and  easy  of  access.  They  gathered  round  him.  He  knew 
them  all.  There  was  not  one  from  whom  he  had  not  a 
right  to  expect  some  sort  of  gratitude,  and  the  movement 
suggested  no  suspicion.  One  had  a  story  to  tell  him;  an- 
other some  favour  to  ask.  Tullius  Cimber,  whom  he  had 
just  made  governor  of  Bithynia,  then  came  close  to  him, 
with  some  request  which  he  was  unwilling  to  grant. 
Cimber  caught  his  gown,  as  if  in  entreaty,  and  dragged  it 
from  his  shoulders.  Cassius,^*  who  was  standing  behind, 
stabbed  him  in  the  throat.  He  started  up  with  a  cry,  and 
caught  Cassius's  arm.  Another  poniard  entered  his 
breast,  giving  a  mortal  wound.  He  looked  round,  and 
seeing  not  one  friendly  face,  but  only  a  ring  of  daggers 
pointing  at  him,  he  drew  his  gown  over  his  head,  gathered 
the  folds  about  him  that  he  might  fall  decently,  and 
sank  down  without  uttering  another  word.^^  Cicero 
was  present.  The  feelings  with  which  he  watched  the 
scene  are  unrecorded,  but  may  easily  be  imagined.  Wav- 
ing his  dagger,  dripping  with  Caesar's  blood,  Brutus 
shouted  to  Cicero  by  name,  congratulating  him  that 
liberty  was  restored.^®  The  Senate  rose  with  shrieks 
and  confusion,  and  rushed  into  the  Forum.  The 
crowd  outside  caught  the  words  that  Caesar  was  dead, 
and  scattered  to  their  houses.  Antony,  guessing  that  those 
who  had  killed  Caesar  would  not  spare  himself,  hurried  ofT 
into  concealment.  The  murderers,  bleeding  some  of  them 
from  wounds  which  they  had  given  one  another  in  their 
eagerness,  followed,  crying  that  the  tyrant  was  dead,  and 
that  Rome  was  free;  and  the  body  of  the  great  Caesar  was 
left  alone  in  the  house  where  a  few  weeks  before  Cicero 
told  him  that  he  was  so  necessary  to  his  country  that  every 
senator  would  die  before  harm  should  reach  him! 

Notes 
'  Page  398.  Apparently  when  Caesar  touched  there  on  his  way  to 
Egypt,  after  Pharsalia.  Cicero  says  (Philippic  ii.  11):  "Quid?  C. 
Cassius  .  .  .  qui  etiam  sine  hisclarissimis  viris,  hanc  rem  in  Cilicia  ad 
ostium  fluminis  Cydni  confecisset,  si  ille  ad  earn  ripam  quam  consti- 
tuerat,  non  ad  contrariam,  navi  appulisset." 


420  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  44 

2  Page  399.  To  be  distinguished  from  Publius  Ligarius,  who  had  been 
put  to  death  before  Thapsus. 

^  Page  399.  The  Gauls  were  especially  obnoxious,  and  epigrams  were 
circulated  to  insult  them  : 

"Gallos  Caesar  in  triumphum  ducit,  idem  in  Curiam. 
Galli  braccas  deposuerunt,  latum  clavum  sumpserunt." 

—Suetonius,  Vita  Julii  Caesaris,  80. 

*  Page  400.  Suetonius. 

'  Page  402.  The  fifth,  dating  the  beginning  of  the  year,  in  the  old 
style,  from  March. 

6  Page  403.  Dion  Cassius. 

'  Page  403.  The  second  consul  who  had  been  put  in  held  office  but  for 
a  few  hours. 

8  Page  403.     Dion  Cassius. 

'  Page  404.  See  the  second  Philippic,  passim.  In  a  letter  to  Decimus 
Brutus,  he  says:  "  Quare  hortationetu  quidem  non  eges,  si  ne  ilia  quidem 
in  re  quae  a  te  gesta  est  post  hominum  memoriam  maxima,  hortatorem 
desiderasti."    Ad  Fam.,  xi.  5. 

loPage  405.  To  Atticus,  xi.  5-6. 

"  Page  405.  Ad  Cselium,  Ad  Fam.,  ii.  16. 

12  Page  405.  To  Atticus,  xi.  7. 

13 Page  405.  See  To  Atticus,  xi.  7-9  ;  To  Terentia,  Ad  Fam.,  xiv.  12. 

1*  Page  406.  "  Tan  tarn  enim  mansuetudinem,  tarn  inusitatam  inaudi- 
tamque  clementiam,  tantum  in  summS,  potestate  rerum  omnium  modum, 
tam  denique  incredibilem  sapientiam  ac  paene  divinam  tacitus  nullo 
modo  prseterire  possum." — Pro  Marco  Marcello,  i. 

15  Page  409.  Pro  Marco  Marcello,  abridged. 

1' Page  410.  "Non  intelligis,  si  id  quod  me  arguis  voluisse  interfici 
Caearem  crimen  sit,  etiam  Isetatum  esse  morte  Caesaris  crimen  esse  ? 
Quid  enim  interest  inter  suasorem  facti  et  approbatorem  ?  Aut  quid 
ref ert  utrum  voluerim  fieri  an  gaudeam  factum  ?  Ecquis  est  igitur  te  ex- 
cepto  et  iis  qui  ilium  regnare  gaudebant,  qui  illud  aut  fieri  noluerit,  aut 
factum  improbarit  ?  Omnes  enim  in  culpL  Etenim  omnes  boni  quan- 
tum in  ipsis  fuit  Caesarem  occiderunt.  Aliis  consilium,  aliis  animus, 
aliis  occasio  defuit.     Voluntas  nemini." — Second  Philippic,  12. 

"Page  411.  Dion  Cassius. 

"Page  411.  So  Dion  Cassius  states,  on  what  authority  we  know  not. 
Suetonius  says  that  as  Caesar  was  returning  from  the  Latin  festival 
someone  placed  a  laurel  crown  on  the  statue,  tied  with  a  white  ribbon. 

1^  Page  412.  The  fact  is  certain.  Cicero  taunted  Antony  with  it  in 
the  Senate,  in  the  Second  Philippic. 

'0  Page  415.  "Cum  ad  rempublicam  liberandam  accessi,  HS.  mihi 
fuit  quadringenties  amplius,"  Decimus  Brutus  to  Cicero,  Ad  Fam.,  xi. 
10. 

'•  Page  417.  "  Vellem  Idibus  Martiis  me  ad  ccenam  invitasses.  Re- 
liquiarum  nihil  fuisset."— Ad  Cassium,  Ad  Fam.,xii.  4.  And  again: 
"  Quam  vellem  ad  illas  pulcherrimas  epulas  me  Idibus  Martiis  invi- 
tasses !   Reliquiarum  nihil  haberemus."   Ad  Trebonium,  Ad  Fam.,  x.  28. 


B.  C.44]  MURDER  OF  C^SAR  421 

"Page  418.  Dion  Cassius,  C.  Julius  Caesar,  xliv.  17. 
"  Page  418.  "  Spret^  religione." — Suetonius. 

**Page  419.  Not  perhaps  Caius  Cassius,  but  another.  Suetonius 
says  "  alter  e  Cassiis." —   Sc*  3(*-«^  ^^    ^-tfju^   e*  ^^^fc^€l*»4l 

"  Page  419.  So  says  Suetonius,  the  best  extant  authority,  who  refers 
to  the  famous  words  addressed  to  Brutus  only  as  a  legend  :  *'  Atque  ita 
tribua  et  viginti  plagis  confossus  est,  uno  modo  ad  primum  ictum 
gemitu  sine  voce  edito.  Etsi  tradiderunt  quidam  Marco  Bruto  irru- 
enti  dixisse  maX  <ri>  e?  iKelvuv  Kal  vi)  t^kvov  ;  " — Julius  Csesar,  82. 

'6  Page  419.  "  Cruentum  alte  extollens  Marcus  Brutus  pugionem, 
Ciceronem  nominatim  exclamavit  atque  ei  recuperatam  libertatem  est 
gratulatus." — Philippic  ii.  12. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE  tyrannicides,  as  the  murderers  of  Caesar  called 
themselves,  had  expected  that  the  Roman  mob 
would  be  caught  by  the  cry  of  Liberty,  and  would 
hail  them  as  the  deliverers  of  their  country.  They  found 
that  the  people  did  not  respond  as  they  had  anticipated. 
The  city  was  stunned.  The  Forum  was  empty.  The 
gladiators,  whom  they  had  secreted  in  the  Temple,  broke 
out  and  plundered  the  unprotected  booths.  A  dead  and 
ominous  silence  prevailed  everywhere.  At  length  a  few 
citizens  collected  in  knots.  Brutus  spoke,  and  Cassius 
spoke.  They  extolled  their  old  constitution.  They  said 
that  Caesar  had  overthrown  it;  that  they  had  slain  him,  not 
from  private  hatred  or  private  interest,  but  to  restore  the 
liberties  of  Rome.  The  audience  was  dead  and  cold.  No 
answering  shouts  came  back  to  reassure  them.  The 
citizens  could  not  forget  that  these  men  who  spoke  so  fairly 
had  a  few  days  before  fawned  on  Caesar  as  the  saviour  of  the 
Empire,  and,  as  if  human  honours  were  too  little,  had 
voted  a  temple  to  him  as  a  god.  The  fire  would  not  kindle. 
Lepidus  came  in  with  troops,  and  occupied  the  Forum. 
The  conspirators  withdrew  into  the  Capitol,  where  Cicero 
and  others  joined  them,  and  the  night  was  passed  in 
earnest  discussion  what  next  was  to  be  done.  They  had 
intended  to  declare  that  Caesar  had  been  a  tyrant,  to  throw 
his  body  into  the  Tiber,  and  to  confiscate  his  property  to 
the  State.  They  discovered  to  their  consternation  that  if 
Caesar  was  a  tyrant,  all  his  acts  would  be  invalidated.  The 
praetors  and  tribunes  held  their  offices,  the  governors  their 
provinces,  under  Caesar's  nomination.  If  Caesar's  acts 
were  set  aside,  Decimus  Brutus  was  not  governor  of  North 
Italy,  nor  Marcus  Brutus  of  Macedonia;  nor  was  Dola- 
bella  consul,  as  he  had  instantly  claimed  to  be  on  Caesar's 
death.     Their  names,  and  the  names  of  many  more  whom 

422 


B.  c.  44]  AFTER  THE   MURDER  423 

Caesar  had  promoted,  would  have  to  be  laid  before  the 
Comitia,  and  in  the  doubtful  humour  of  the  people  they 
little  liked  the  risk.  That  the  dilemma  should  have  been 
totally  unforeseen  was  characteristic  of  the  men  and  their 
capacity. 

Nor  was  this  the  worst.  Lands  had  been  allotted  to 
Caesar's  troops.  Many  thousands  of  colonists  were  wait- 
ing to  depart  for  Carthage  and  Corinth  and  other  places 
where  settlements  had  been  provided  for  them.  These  ar- 
rangements would  equally  fall  through,  and  it  was  easy  to 
know  what  would  follow.  Antony  and  Lepidus,  too,  had 
to  be  reckoned  with.  Antony,  as  the  surviving  consul,  was 
the  supreme  lawful  authority  in  the  city;  and  Lepidus  and 
his  soldiers  might  have  a  word  to  say  if  the  body  of  their 
great  commander  was  flung  into  the  river  as  the  corpse  of 
a  malefactor.  Interest  and  fear  suggested  more  moderate 
counsels.  The  conspirators  determined  that  Caesar's  ap- 
pointments must  stand;  his  acts,  it  seemed,  must  stand  also; 
and  his  remains,  therefore,  must  be  treated  with  respect. 
Imagination  took  another  flight.  Caesar's  death  might  be 
regarded  as  a  sacrifice,  an  expiatory  offering  for  the  sins  of 
the  nation;  and  the  divided  parties  might  embrace  in  virtue 
of  the  atonement.  They  agreed  to  send  for  Antony,  and 
invite  him  to  assist  in  saving  society;  and  they  asked  Cicero 
to  be  their  messenger.  Cicero,  great  and  many  as  his 
faults  might  be,  was  not  a  fool.  He  declined  to  go  on  so 
absurd  a  mission.  He  knew  Antony  too  well  to  dream 
that  he  could  be  imposed  on  by  fantastic  illusions.  An- 
tony, he  said,  would  promise  anything,  but  if  they  trusted 
him,  they  would  have  reason  to  repent.^  Others,  however, 
undertook  the  office.  Antony  agreed  to  meet  them,  and 
the  next  morning  the  Senate  was  assembled  in  the  Temple 
of  Terra. 

Antony  presided  as  consul,  and  after  a  few  words  from 
him  Cicero  rose.  He  disapproved  of  the  course  which  his 
friends  were  taking;  he  foresaw  what  must  come  of  it;  but 
he  had  been  overruled,  and  he  made  the  best  of  what  he 
could  not  help.     He  gave  a  sketch  of  Roman  political  his- 


424  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  44 

tory.  He  went  back  to  the  secession  to  Mount  Aventine. 
He  spoke  of  the  Gracchi,  of  Saturninus  and  Glaucia,  of 
Marius  and  Sylla,  of  Sertorius  and  Pompey,  of  Caesar  arid 
the  still  unforgotten  Clodius.  He  describes  the  fate  of 
Athens  and  of  other  Grecian  States  into  which  faction  had 
penetrated.  If  Rome  continued  divided,  the  conquerors 
would  rule  over  its  ruins;  therefore  he  appealed  to  the  two 
factions  to  forget  their  rivalries  and  to  return  to  peace  and 
concord.  But  they  must  decide  at  once,  for  the  signs  were 
already  visible  of  a  fresh  conflict. 

'*  Caesar  is  slain,"  he  said.  "  The  Capitol  is  occupied  by 
the  Optimates,  the  Forum  by  soldiers,  and  the  people  are 
full  of  terror.  Is  violence  to  be  again  answered  by  more 
violence?  These  many  years  we  have  lived  less  like  men 
than  like  wild  beasts  in  cycles  of  recurring  revenge.  Let 
us  forget  the  past.  Let  us  draw  a  veil  over  all  that  has 
been  done,  not  looking  too  curiously  into  the  acts  of  any 
man.  Much  may  be  said  to  show  that  Caesar  deserved  his 
death,  and  much  against  those  who  have  killed  him.  But 
to  raise  the  question  will  breed  fresh  quarrels;  and  if  we  are 
wise  we  shall  regard  the  scene  which  we  have  witnessed  as 
a  convulsion  of  nature  which  is  now  at  an  end.  Let 
Caesar's  ordinances,  let  Caesar's  appointments  be  main- 
tained. None  such  must  be  heard  of  again.  But  what  is 
done  cannot  be  undone."  ^ 

Admirable  advice,  were  it  as  easy  to  act  on  good  counsel 
as  to  give  it.  The  murder  of  such  a  man  as  Caesar  was  not 
to  be  so  easily  smoothed  over.  But  the  delusive  vision 
seemed  for  a  moment  to  please.  The  Senate  passed  an 
act  of  oblivion.  The  agitation  in  the  army  was  quieted 
when  the  men  heard  that  their  lands  were  secure.  But 
there  were  two  other  questions  which  required  an  answer, 
and  an  immediate  one.  Caesar's  body,  after  remaining  till 
evening  on  the  floor  of  the  Senate-house,  had  been  carried 
home  in  the  dusk  in  a  litter  by  three  of  his  servants,  and 
was  now  lying  in  his  palace.  If  it  was  not  to  be  thrown 
into  the  Tiber,  what  was  to  be  done  with  it?  Caesar  had 
left  a  will,  which  was  safe  with  his  other  papers  in  the  hands 


B.  c.  44]  FUNERAL  OF  CAESAR  425 

of  Antony.  Was  the  will  to  be  read  and  recognised? 
Though  Cicero  had  advised  in  the  Senate  that  the  discus- 
sion whether  Caesar  had  deserved  death  should  not  be 
raised,  yet  it  was  plain  to  him  and  to  everyone  that,  unless 
Caesar  was  held  guilty  of  conspiring  against  the  constitu- 
tion, the  murder  was  and  would  be  regarded  as  a  most 
execrable  crime.  He  dreaded  the  effect  of  a  public  funeral. 
He  feared  that  the  will  might  contain  provisions  which 
would  rouse  the  passions  of  the  people.  Though  Caesar 
was  not  for  various  reasons  to  be  pronounced  a  tyrant, 
Cicero  advised  that  he  should  be  buried  privately,  as  if 
his  name  was  under  a  cloud,  and  that  his  property  should 
be  escheated  to  the  nation.  But  the  humour  of  concilia- 
tion and  the  theory  of  '*  the  atoning  sacrifice  "  had  caught 
the  Senate.  Caesar  had  done  great  things  for  his  country. 
It  would  please  the  army  that  he  should  have  an  honour- 
able sepulture. 

If  they  had  refused,  the  result  would  not  have  been 
greatly  different.  Sooner  or  later,  when  the  stunning 
effects  of  the  shock  had  passed  off,  the  murder  must  have 
appeared  to  Rome  and  Italy  in  its  true  colours.  The 
Optimates  talked  of  the  constitution.  The  constitution  in 
their  hands  had  been  a  parody  of  liberty.  Caesar's  political 
life  had  been  spent  in  wresting  from  them  the  powers  which 
they  had  abused.  Caesar  had  punished  the  oppressors  of 
the  provinces.  Caesar  had  forced  the  nobles  to  give  the 
people  a  share  of  the  public  lands.  Caesar  had  opened  the 
doors  of  citizenship  to  the  libertini,  the  distant  colonists, 
and  the  provincials.  It  was  for  this  that  the  Senate  hated 
him.  For  this  they  had  fought  against  him;  for  this  they 
murdered  him.  No  Roman  had  ever  served  his  country 
better  in  peace  or  war,  and  thus  he  had  been  rewarded. 

Such  thoughts  were  already  working  in  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  breasts.  A  feeling  of  resentment  was  fast  rising, 
with  as  yet  no  certain  purpose  before  it.  In  this  mood 
the  funeral  could  not  fail  to  lead  to  some  fierce  explosion. 
For  this  reason  Antony  had  pressed  for  it,  and  the  Senate 
had  given  their  consent. 


426  JULIUS  CiESAR  [b.  c.  44 

The  body  was  brought  down  to  the  Forum  and  placed 
upon  the  Rostra.  The  dress  had  not  been  changed;  the 
gown,  gashed  with  daggers  and  soaked  in  blood,  was  still 
wrapped  about  it.  The  will  was  read  first.  It  reminded 
the  Romans  that  they  had  been  always  in  Caesar's  thoughts, 
for  he  had  left  each  citizen  seventy-five  drachmas  (nearly 
3I.  of  English  money),  and  he  had  left  them  his  gardens  on 
the  Tiber,  as  a  perpetual  recreation  ground,  a  possession 
which  Domitius  Ahenobarbus  had  designed  for  himself 
before  Pharsalia.  He  had  made  Octavius  his  general  heir; 
among  the  second  heirs,  should  Octavius  fail,  he  had  named 
Decimus  Brutus,  who  had  betrayed  him.  A  deep  move- 
ment of  emotion  passed  through  the  crowd  when,  beside 
the  consideration  for  themselves,  they  heard  from  this 
record,  which  could  not  He,  a  proof  of  the  confidence  which 
had  been  so  abused.  Antony,  after  waiting  for  the  passion 
to  work,  then  came  forward. 

Cicero  had  good  reason  for  fear  of  Antony.  He  was  a 
loose  soldier,  careless  in  his  life,  ambitious,  extravagant, 
little  more  scrupulous  perhaps  than  any  average  Roman 
gentleman.  But  for  Caesar  his  affection  was  genuine. 
The  people  were  in  intense  expectation.  He  produced  the 
body,  all  bloody  as  it  had  fallen,  and  he  bade  a  herald  first 
read  the  votes  which  the  Senate  had  freshly  passed,  heap- 
ing those  extravagant  honours  upon  Caesar  which  he  had 
not  desired,  and  the  oath  which  the  senators  had  each  per- 
sonally taken  to  defend  him  from  violence.  He  then  spoke 
— spoke  with  the  natural  vehemence  of  a  friend,  yet  saying 
nothing  which  was  not  literally  true.  The  services  of 
Caesar  neither  needed  nor  permitted  the  exaggeration  of 
eloquence. 

He  began  with  the  usual  encomiums.  He  spoke  of 
Caesar's  family,  his  birth,  his  early  history,  his  personal 
characteristics,  his  thrifty  private  habits,  his  public  liber- 
ality; he  described  him  as  generous  to  his  friends,  forbear- 
ing with  his  enemies,  without  evil  in  himself,  and  reluctant 
to  believe  evil  of  others. 

"  Power  in  most  men,"  he  said,   "  has  brought  their 


B.  c.  44]  SPEECH   OF  ANTONY  42/ 

faults  to  light.  Power  in  Caesar  brought  into  prominence 
his  excellences.  Prosperity  did  not  make  him  insolent, 
for  it  gave  him  a  sphere  which  corresponded  to  his  nature. 
His  first  services  in  Spain  deserved  a  triumph;  of  his  laws 
I  could  speak  forever.  His  campaigns  in  Gaul  are  known 
to  you  all.  The  land  from  which  the  Teutons  and  Cimbri 
poured  over  the  Alps  is  now  as  well  ordered  as  Italy. 
Caesar  would  have  added  Germany  and  Britain  to  your 
Empire,  but  his  enemies  would  not  have  it  so.  They  re- 
garded the  Commonwealth  as  the  patrimony  of  themselves. 
They  brought  him  home.  They  went  on  with  their  usur- 
pations till  you  yourselves  required  his  help.  He  set  you 
free.  He  set  Spain  free.  He  laboured  for  peace  with 
Pompey,  but  Pompey  preferred  to  go  into  Greece,  to 
bring  the  powers  of  the  East  upon  you,  and  he  perished  in 
his  obstinacy. 

"  Caesar  took  no  honour  to  himself  for  this  victory.  He 
abhorred  the  necessity  of  it.  He  took  no  revenge.  He 
praised  those  who  had  been  faithful  to  Pompey,  and  he 
blamed  Pharnaces  for  deserting  him.  He  was  sorry  for 
Pompey's  death,  and  he  treated  his  murderers  as  they  de- 
served. He  settled  Egypt  and  Armenia.  He  would  have 
disposed  of  the  Parthians  had  not  fresh  seditions  recalled 
him  to  Italy.  He  quelled  those  seditions.  He  restored 
peace  in  Africa  and  Spain,  and  again  his  one  desire  was  to 
spare  his  fellow-citizens.  There  was  in  him  an  '  inbred 
goodness.'  ^  He  was  always  the  same — never  carried  away 
by  anger,  and  never  spoilt  by  success.  He  did  not  retaliate 
for  the  past,  he  never  tried  by  severity  to  secure  himself 
for  the  future.  His  effort  throughout  was  to  save  all  who 
would  allow  themselves  to  be  saved.  He  repaired  old  acts 
of  injustice.  He  restored  the  families  of  those  who  had 
been  proscribed  by  Sylla,  but  he  burnt  unread  the  corre- 
spondence of  Pompey  and  Scipio,  that  those  whom  it  com- 
promised might  neither  suffer  injury  nor  fear  injury.  You 
honoured  him  as  your  father;  you  loved  him  as  your  bene- 
factor; you  made  him  chief  of  the  State,  not  being  curious 
of  titles-,  but  regarding  the  most  which  you  could  give  as 


428  JULIUS   CiESAR  [b.  c.  44 

less  than  he  had  deserved  at  your  hands.  Towards  the  gods 
he  was  High  Priest.  To  you  he  was  Consul;  to  the  army 
he  was  Imperator;  to  the  enemies  of  his  country  Dictator. 
In  sum  he  was  Pater  Patriae.  And  this  your  father,  your 
Pontifex,  this  hero,  whose  person  was  declared  inviolable, 
lies  dead — dead,  not  by  disease  or  age,  not  by  war  or  visi- 
tation of  God,  but  here  at  home,  by  conspiracy  within  your 
own  walls,  slain  in  the  Senate-house,  the  warrior  unarmed, 
the  peacemaker  naked  to  his  foes,  the  righteous  judge  in 
the  seat  of  judgment.  He  whom  no  foreign  enemy  could 
hurt  has  been  killed  by  his  fellow-countrymen — he,  who 
had  so  often  shown  mercy,  by  those  whom  he  had  spared. 
Where,  Caesar,  is  your  love  for  mankind?  Where  is  the 
sacredness  of  your  life?  Where  are  your  laws?  Here  you 
lie  murdered — here  in  the  Forum,  through  which  so  often 
you  marched  in  triumph  wreathed  with  garlands;  here 
upon  the  rostra  from  which  you  were  wont  to  address  your 
people.  Alas  for  your  gray  hairs  dabbled  in  blood!  alas 
for  this  lacerated  robe  in  which  you  were  dressed  for  the 
sacrifice!  "  * 

Antony's  words,  as  he  well  knew,  were  a  declaration  of 
irreconcilable  war  against  the  murderers  and  their  friends. 
As  his  impassioned  language  did  its  work  the  multitude 
rose  into  fury.  They  cursed  the  conspirators.  They 
cursed  the  Senate  who  had  sat  by  while  the  deed  was  being 
done.  They  had  been  moved  to  fury  by  the  murder  of 
Clodius.  Ten  thousand  Clodiuses,  had  he  been  all  which 
their  imagination  painted  him,  could  not  equal  one  Caesar. 
They  took  on  themselves  the  order  of  the  funeral.  They 
surrounded  the  body,  which  was  reverently  raised  by  the 
officers  of  the  Forum.  Part  proposed  to  carry  it  to  the 
Temple  of  Jupiter,  in  the  Capitol,  and  to  burn  it  under  the 
eyes  of  the  assassins;  part  to  take  it  into  the  Senate-house 
and  use  the  meeting-place  of  the  Optimates  a  second  time 
as  the  pyre  of  the  people's  friend.  A  few  legionaries,  per- 
haps to  spare  the  city  a  general  conflagration,  advised  that 
it  should  be  consumed  where  it  lay.  The  platform  was 
torn  up  and  the  broken  timbers  piled  into  a  heap.     Chairs 


B.  c.  44]  FRUITLESSNESS  OF  THE   MURDER  429 

and  benches  were  thrown  on  to  it,  the  whole  crowd  rush- 
ing wildly  to  add  a  chip  or  splinter.  Actors  flung  in  their 
dresses,  musicians  their  instruments,  soldiers  their  swords. 
Women  added  their  necklaces  and  scarfs.  Mothers 
brought  up  their  children  to  contribute  toys  and  play- 
things. On  the  pile  so  composed  the  body  of  Caesar  was 
reduced  to  ashes.  The  remains  were  collected  with  affec- 
tionate care  and  deposited  in  the  tomb  of  the  Caesars,  in 
the  Campus  Martins.  The  crowd,  it  was  observed,  was 
composed  largely  of  libertini  and  of  provincials  whom 
Caesar  had  enfranchised.  The  demonstrations  of  sorrow 
were  most  remarkable  among  the  Jews,  crowds  of  whom 
continued  for  many  nights  to  collect  and  wail  in  the  Forum 
at  the  scene  of  the  singular  ceremony. 

When  the  people  were  in  such  a  mood,  Rome  was  no 
place  for  the  conspirators.  They  scattered  over  the  Em- 
pire: Decimus  Brutus,  Marcus  Brutus,  Cassius,  Cimber, 
Trebonius,  retreated  to  the  provinces  which  Caesar  had  as- 
signed them,  the  rest  clinging  to  the  shelter  of  their  friends. 
The  legions — a  striking  tribute  to  Roman  discipline — re- 
mained by  their  eagles,  faithful  to  their  immediate  duties, 
and  obedient  to  their  officers,  till  it  could  be  seen  how 
events  would  turn.  Lepidus  joined  the  army  in  Gaul; 
Antony  continued  in  Rome,  holding  the  administration  in 
his  hands  and  watching  the  action  of  the  Senate.  Caesar 
was  dead.  But  Caesar  still  lived.  "  It  was  not  possible 
that  the  grave  should  hold  him."  The  people  said  that  he 
was  a  god,  and  had  gone  back  to  heaven,  where  his  star  had 
been  seen  ascending  ;'^  his  spirit  remained  on  earth,  and  the 
vain  blows  of  the  assassins  had  been  but  "  maUcious  mock- 
ery." "  We  have  killed  the  king,"  exclaimed  Cicero  in 
the  bitterness  of  his  disenchantment,  "  but  the  kingdom  is 
with  us  still;"  "we  have  taken  away  the  tyrant;  the  tyr- 
anny survives."  Caesar  had  not  overthrown  the  oligarchy; 
their  own  incapacity,  their  own  selfishness,  their  own  base- 
ness, had  overthrown  them.  Caesar  had  been  but  the 
reluctant  instrument  of  the  power  which  metes  out  to  men 
the  inevitable  penalties  of  their  own  misdeeds.     They  had 


43<^  JULIUS   C^SAR  [b.  c.  44 

dreamt  that  the  constitution  was  a  living  force  which  would 
revive  of  itself  as  soon  as  its  enemy  was  gone.  They  did 
not  know  that  it  was  dead  already,  and  that  they  had  them- 
selves destroyed  it.  The  constitution  was  but  an  agree- 
ment by  which  the  Roman  people  had  consented  to  abide 
for  their  common  good.  It  had  ceased  to  be  for  the  com- 
mon good.  The  experience  of  fifty  miserable  years  had 
proved  that  it  meant  the  supremacy  of  the  rich,  maintained 
by  the  bought  votes  of  demoralized  electors.  The  soil  of 
Italy,  the  industry  and  happiness  of  tens  of  millions  of  man- 
kind, from  the  Rhine  to  the  Euphrates,  had  been  the  spoil 
of  five  hundred  families  and  their  relatives  and  depend- 
ents, of  men  whose  occupation  was  luxury,  and  whose 
appetites  were  for  monstrous  pleasures.  The  self-respect 
of  reasonable  men  could  no  longer  tolerate  such  a  rule  in 
Italy  or  out  of  it.  In  killing  Caesar  the  Optimates  had 
been  as  foolish  as  they  were  treacherous;  for  Caesar's  efforts 
had  been  to  reform  the  constitution,  not  to  abolish  it.  The 
Civil  War  had  risen  from  their  dread  of  his  second  consul- 
ship, which  they  had  feared  would  make  an  end  of  their 
corruptions;  and  that  the  constitution  should  be  purged 
of  the  poison  in  its  veins  was  the  sole  condition  on  which 
its  continuance  was  possible.  The  obstinacy,  the  ferocity, 
the  treachery  of  the  aristocracy,  had  compelled  Caesar  to 
crush  them;  and  the  more  desperate  their  struggles  the 
more  absolute  the  necessity  became.  But  he  alone  could 
have  restored  as  much  of  popular  liberty  as  was  consistent 
with  the  responsibilities  of  such  a  government  as  the  Em- 
pire required.  In  Caesar  alone  were  combined  the  intellect 
and  the  power  necessary  for  such  a  work;  and  they  had 
killed  him,  and  in  doing  so  had  passed  final  sentence  on 
themselves.  Not  as  realities  any  more,  but  as  harmless 
phantoms,  the  forms  of  the  old  Republic  were  henceforth 
to  persist.  In  the  army  only  remained  the  imperial  con- 
sciousness of  the  honour  and  duty  of  Roman  citizens.  To 
the  army,  therefore,  the  rule  was  transferred.  The  Ro- 
man nation  had  grown  as  the  oak  grows,  self-developed  in 
severe  morality,  each  citizen  a  law  to  himself,  and  therefore 


B.  c.  44-43]  OCTAVIUS  AT   ROME  431 

capable  of  political  freedom  in  an  unexampled  degree.  All 
organizations  destined  to  endure  spring  from  forces  in- 
herent in  themselves,  and  must  grow  freely,  or  they  will  not 
grow  at  all.  When  the  tree  reaches  maturity,  decay  sets 
in;  if  it  be  left  standing,  the  disintegration  of  the  fibre  goes 
swiftly  forward ;  if  the  stem  is  severed  from  the  root,  the  de- 
stroying power  is  arrested,  and  the  timber  will  endure  a 
thousand  years.  So  it  was  with  Rome.  The  constitution 
under  which  the  Empire  had  sprung  up  was  poisoned,  and 
was  brought  to  a  violent  end  before  it  had  affected  materi- 
ally for  evil  the  masses  of  the  people.  The  soHd  structure 
was  preserved — not  to  grow  any  longer,  not  to  produce  a 
new  Camillus  or  a  new  Regulus,  a  new  Scipio  Africanus  or 
a  new  Tiberius  Gracchus,  but  to  form  an  endurable  shelter 
for  civilized  mankind,  until  a  fresh,  spiritual  life  was  de- 
veloped out  of  Palestine  to  remodel  the  conscience  of 
humanity. 

A  gleam  of  hope  opened  to  Cicero  in  the  summer. 
Octavius,  who  was  in  Greece  at  the  time  of  the  murder, 
came  to  Rome  to  claim  his  inheritance.  He  was  but 
eighteen,  too  young  for  the  burden  which  was  thrown 
upon  him;  and  being  unknown,  he  had  the  confidence  of 
the  legions  to  win.  The  army,  dispersed  over  the  prov- 
inces, had  as  yet  no  collective  purpose.  Antony,  it  is  pos- 
sible, was  jealous  of  him,  and  looked  on  himself  as  Caesar's 
true  representative  and  avenger.  Octavius,  finding  An- 
tony hostile,  or  at  least  indifferent  to  his  claims,  played 
with  the  Senate  with  cool  foresight  till  he  felt  the  ground 
firm  under  his  feet.  Cicero  boasted  that  he  would  use 
Octavius  to  ruin  Antony,  and  would  throw  him  over  when 
he  had  served  his  purpose.  "  Cicero  will  learn,"  Octavius 
said,  when  the  words  were  reported  to  him,  "  that  I  shall 
not  be  played  with  so  easily." 

For  a  year  the  confusion  lasted;  two  of  Caesar's  officers, 
Hirtius  and  Pausa,  were  chosen  consuls  by  the  senatorial 
party,  to  please  the  legions;  and  Antony  contended  dubi- 
ously with  them  and  Decimus  Brutus  for  some  months  in 
the  north  of  Italy.     But  Antony  joined  Lepidus,  and  the 


432  JULIUS    C^SAR  [B.  c.  44-43 

Gallic  legions  with  judicial  fitness  broug-ht  Cicero's  dreams 
to  the  ground.  Cicero's  friend,  Plancus,  who  commanded 
in  Normandy  and  Belgium,  attempted  a  faint  resistance^ 
but  was  made  to  yield  to  the  resolution  of  his  troops. 
Octavius  and  Antony  came  to  an  understanding;  and 
Caesar's  tw^o  generals,  who  were  true  to  his  memory,  and 
Octavius,  who  was  the  heir  of  his  name,  crossed  the  Alps, 
at  the  head  of  the  united  army  of  Gaul,  to  punish  the  mur- 
der and  restore  peace  to  the  world.  No  resistance  was 
possible.  Many  of  the  senators,  like  Cicero,  though  they 
had  borne  no  part  in  the  assassination,  had  taken  the  guilt 
of  it  upon  themselves  by  the  enthusiasm  of  their  approval. 
They  were  all  men  who  had  sworn  fidelity  to  Caesar,  and 
had  been  ostentatious  in  their  profession  of  devotion  to 
him.  It  had  become  too  plain  that  from  such  persons  no 
repentance  was  to  be  looked  for.  They  were  impelled  by 
a  malice  or  a  fanaticism  which  clemency  could  not  touch  or 
reason  influence.  So  long  as  they  lived  they  would  still 
conspire;  and  any  weapons,  either  of  open  war  or  secret 
treachery,  would  seem  justifiable  to  them  in  the  cause 
which  they  regarded  as  sacred.  Ccesar  himself  would,  no 
doubt,  have  again  pardoned  them.  Octavius,  Antony,  and 
Lepidus  were  men  of  more  common  mould.  The  mur- 
derers of  Caesar,  and  those  who  had  either  instigated  them 
secretly  or  applauded  them  afterwards,  were  included  in  a 
proscription  list,  drawn  by  retributive  justice  on  the  model 
of  Sylla's.  Such  of  them  as  were  in  Italy  were  imme- 
diately killed.  Those  in  the  provinces,  as  if  with  the  curse 
of  Cain  upon  their  heads,  came  one  by  one  to  miserable 
ends.  Brutus  and  Cassius  fought  hard  and  fell  at  Philippi. 
In  three  years  the  tyrannicides  of  the  Ides  of  March,  with 
their  aiders  and  abettors,  were  all  dead,  some  killed  in 
battle,  some  in  prison,  some  dying  by  their  own  hand — 
slain  with  the  daggers  with  which  they  had  stabbed  their 
master. 

Out  of  the  whole  party  the  fate  of  one  only  deserves  spe- 
cial notice,  a  man  whose  splendid  talents  have  bought  for- 
giveness for  his  faults,  and  have  given  him  a  place  in  the 


B.  c.  43]  FATE  OF  CICERO  433 

small  circle  of  the  really  great  whose  memory  is  not  al- 
lowed to  die. 

After  the  dispersion  of  the  conspirators  which  followed 
Caesar's  funeral,  Cicero  had  remained  in  Rome.  His 
timidity  seemed  to  have  forsaken  him,  and  he  had  striven, 
with  an  energy  which  recalled  his  brightest  days,  to  set  the 
constitution  again  upon  its  feet.  Antony  charged  him  in 
the  Senate  with  having  been  contriver  of  Caesar's  death. 
He  replied  with  invectives  fierce  and  scurrilous  as  those 
which  he  had  heaped  upon  Catiline  and  Clodius.  A  time 
had  been  when  he  had  affected  to  look  on  Antony  as  his 
preserver.  Now  there  was  no  imaginable  infamy  in  which 
he  did  not  steep  his  name.  He  spoke  of  the  murder  as  the 
most  splendid  achievement  recorded  in  history,  and  he 
regretted  only  that  he  had  not  been  taken  into  counsel  by 
the  deliverers  of  their  country.  Antony  would  not  then 
have  been  alive  to  rekindle  civil  discord.  When  Antony 
left  Rome,  Cicero  was  for  a  few  months  again  the  head  of 
the  State.  He  ruled  the  Senate,  controlled  the  Treasury, 
corresponded  with  the  conspirators  in  the  provinces,  and 
advised  their  movements.  He  continued  sanguine  him- 
self, and  he  poured  spirit  into  others.  No  one  can  refuse 
admiration  to  the  last  blaze  of  his  expiring  powers.  But 
when  he  heard  that  Antony  and  Lepidius  and  Octavius  had 
united,  and  were  coming  into  Italy  with  the  whole  Western 
army,  he  saw  that  all  was  over.  He  was  now  sixty-three — 
too  old  for  hope.  He  could  hardly  have  wished  to  live, 
and  this  time  he  was  well  assured  that  there  would  be  no 
mercy  for  him.  Csesar  would  have  spared  a  man  whom 
he  esteemed  in  spite  of  his  infirmities.  But  there  was  no 
Csesar  now,  and  fair  speeches  would  serve  his  turn  no 
longer.  He  retired  from  the  city  with  his  brother  Quintus, 
and  had  some  half-formed  purpose  of  flying  to  Brutus,  who 
was  still  in  arm.s  in  Macedonia.  He  even  embarked,  but 
without  a  settled  resolution,  and  he  allowed  himself  to  be 
driven  back  by  a  storm.  Theatrical  even  in  extremities,  he 
thought  of  returning  to  Rome  and  of  killing  himself  in 

Caesar's  house,  that  he  might  bring  the  curse  of  his  blood 
»8 


434  JULIUS  C^SAR  [b.  c.  43 

Upon  Octavius.  In  these  uncertainties  he  drifted  into  his 
own  villa  at  Formise/  saying  in  weariness,  and  with  a  sad 
note  of  his  old  self-importance,  that  he  would  die  in  the 
country  which  he  had  so  often  saved.  Here,  on  the  4th 
of  December,  B.  C.  43,  Popilius  Loenas,  an  officer  of  An- 
tony's, came  to  find  him.  Peasants  from  the  neighbour- 
hood brought  news  to  the  villa  that  the  soldiers  were 
approaching.  His  servants  thrust  him  into  a  litter  and 
carried  him  down  through  the  woods  toward  the  sea. 
Loenas  followed  and  overtook  him.  To  his  slaves  he  had 
been  always  the  gentlest  of  masters.  They  would  have 
given  their  lives  in  his  defence  if  he  would  have  allowed 
them;  but  he  bade  them  set  the  Htter  down  and  save  them- 
selves. He  thrust  out  his  head  between  the  curtains,  and 
it  was  instantly  struck  off. 

So  ended  Cicero,  a  tragic  combination  of  magnificent 
talents,  high  aspirations,  and  true  desire  to  do  right,  with 
an  infirmity  of  purpose  and  a  latent  insincerity  of  character 
which  neutralized  and  could  almost  make  us  forget  his 
nobler  qualities.  It  cannot  be  said  of  Cicero  that  he  was 
blind  to  the  faults  of  the  party  to  which  he  attached  him- 
self. To  him  we  owe  our  knowledge  of  what  the  Roman 
aristocrats  really  were,  and  of  the  hopelessness  of  expect- 
ing that  they  could  have  been  trusted  any  longer  with  the 
administration  of  the  Empire,  if  the  Empire  itself  was  to 
endure.  Cicero's  natural  place  was  at  Caesar's  side;  but  to 
Csesar  alone  of  his  contemporaries  he  was  conscious  of  an 
inferiority  which  was  intolerable  to  him.  In  his  own  eyes 
he  was  always  the  first  person.  He  had  been  made  un- 
happy by  the  thought  that  posterity  might  rate  Pompey 
above  himself.  Closer  acquaintance  had  reassured  him 
about  Pompey,  but  in  Csesar  he  was  conscious  of  a  higher 
presence,  and  he  rebelled  against  the  humiliating  acknowl- 
edgment. Supreme  as  an  orator  he  could  always  be,  and 
an  order  of  things  was,  therefore,  most  desirable  where 
oratory  held  the  highest  place.  Thus  he  chose  his  part 
with  the  "  boni,"  whom  he  despised  while  he  supported 
them,  drifting  on  through  vacillation  into  treachery,  till 


B.  c.  43]  CHARACTER  OF  CICERO  435 

"  the  ingredients  of  the  poisoned  chalice  "  were  "  com- 
mended to  his  own  Hps." 

In  Cicero  Nature  half-made  a  great  man  ihd  left  him  un- 
completed. Our  characters  are  written  in  our  forms,  and 
the  bust  of  Cicero  is  the  key  to  his  history.  The  brow  is 
broad  and  strong,  the  nose  large,  the  lips  tightly  com- 
pressed, the  features  lean  and  keen  from  restless  intellectual 
energy.  The  loose  bending  figure,  the  neck,  too  weak  for 
the  weight  of  the  head,  explain  the  infirmity  of  will,  the 
passion,  the  cunning,  the  vanity,  the  absence  of  manliness 
and  veracity.  He  was  born  into  an  age  of  violence  with 
which  he  was  too  feeble  to  contend.  The  gratitude  of 
mankind  for  his  literary  excellence  will  forever  preserve 
his  memory  from  too  harsh  a  judgment. 

Notes 

*  Page  423.  Philippic  ii.  35. 

5  Page  424.  Abridged  from  Dion  Cassius,  who  probably  gives  no 
more  than  the  traditionary  version  of  Cicero's  words. 

^  Page  427.  "EfKpvTos  xPV<^'^^TV^  are  Dion  Cassius's  words.  Antony's 
language  was  differently  reported,  and  perhaps  there  was  no  literal 
record  of  it.  Dion  Cassius,  however,  can  hardly  have  himself  com- 
posed the  version  which  he  gives  in  his  history;  for  he  calls  the  speech 
as  ill-timed  as  it  was  brilliant. 

*  Page  428.  Abridged  from  Dion  Cassius,  xliv.  36. 

^  Page  429.  "  In  deorum  numerum  relatus  est  non  ore  modo  decemen- 
tium  sed  et  persuasione  vulgi." — Suetonius. 

*  Page  434.  Near  Gaeta. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

IT  remains  to  offer  a  few  general  remarks  on  the  person 
whose  hfe  and  actions  I  have  endeavoured  to  describe 
in  the  preceding  pages. 
In  all  conditions  of  human  society,  distinguished  men  are 
the  subjects  of  legend;  but  the  character  of  the  legend 
varies  with  the  disposition  of  the  time.  In  ages  which  we 
call  heroic  the  saint  works  miracles,  the  warrior  performs 
exploits  beyond  the  strength  of  natural  man.  In  ages  less 
visionary  which  are  given  to  ease  and  enjoyment  the  tend- 
ency is  to  bring  a  great  man  down  to  the  common  level, 
and  to  discover  or  invent  faults  which  shall  show  that  he 
is  or  was  but  a  little  man  after  all.  Our  vanity  is  soothed 
by  evidence  that  those  who  have  eclipsed  us  in  the  race  of 
hfe  are  no  better  than  ourselves,  or  in  some  respects  are 
worse  than  ourselves;  and  if  to  these  general  impulses  be 
added  political  or  personal  animosity,  accusations  of  de- 
pravity are  circulated  as  surely  about  such  men,  and  are 
credited  as  readily,  as  under  other  influences  are  the  mar- 
vellous achievements  of  a  Cid  or  a  St.  Francis.  In  the 
present  day  we  reject  miracles  and  prodigies,  we  are  on 
our  guard  against  the  mythology  of  hero  worship,  just  as 
we  disbelieve  in  the  eminent  superiority  of  any  one  of  our 
contemporaries  to  another.  We  look  less  curiously  into 
the  mythology  of  scandal,  we  accept  easily  and  willingly 
stories  disparaging  to  illustrious  persons  in  history,  be- 
cause similar  stories  are  told  and  retold  with  so  much  con- 
fidence and  fluency  among  the  political  adversaries  of  those 
who  have  the  misfortune  to  be  their  successful  rivals.  The 
absurdity  of  a  calumny  may  be  as  evident  as  the  absurdity 
of  a  miracle;  the  ground  for  beUef  may  be  no  more  than 
a  Hghtness  of  mind,  and  a  less  pardonable  wish  that  it 
may  be  true.     But  the  idle  tale  floats  in  society,  and  by 

436 


CiESAR'S  RELATIONS  WITH  WOMEN  437 

and  by  is  written  down  in  books  and  passes  into  the  region 
of  established  reahties. 

The  tendency  to  idolize  great  men  and  the  tendency  to 
depreciate  them  arise  alike  in  emotion;  but  the  slanders 
of  disparagement  are  as  truly  legends  as  the  wonder-tales 
of  saints  and  warriors;  and  anecdotes  related  of  Caesar  at 
patrician  dinner-parties  at  Rome  as  little  deserve  attention 
as  the  information  so  freely  given  upon  the  habits  of  mod- 
ern statesmen  in  the  salons  of  London  and  Paris.  They 
are  read  now  by  us  in  classic  Latin,  but  they  were  recorded 
by  men  who  hated  Caesar  and  hated  all  that  he  had  done; 
and  that  a  poem  has  survived  for  two  thousand  years  is  no 
evidence  that  the  author  of  it,  even  though  he  might  be  a 
Catullus,  was  uninfluenced  by  the  common  passions  of 
humanity. 

Caesar,  it  is  allowed,  had  extraordinary  talents,  extraordi- 
nary energy,  and  some  commendable  qualities;  but  he  was, 
as  the  elder  Curio  said,  '*  omnium  mulierum  vir  et  om- 
nium virorum  mulier  " ;  he  had  mistresses  in  every  country 
which  he  visited,  and  he  had  liaisons  with  half  the  ladies  in 
Rome.  That  Caesar's  morality  was  altogether  superior  to 
that  of  the  average  of  his  contemporaries  is  in  a  high  de- 
gree improbable.  He  was  a  man  of  the  world,  peculiarly 
attractive  to  women,  and  likely  to  have  been  attracted  by 
them.  On  the  other  hand,  the  undiscriminating  loose- 
ness attributed  to  him  would  have  been  peculiarly  degrad- 
ing in  a  man  whose  passions  were  so  eminently  under 
control,  whose  calmness  was  never  known  to  be  discom- 
posed, and  who,  in  everything  which  he  did,  acted  always 
with  deliberate  will.  Still  worse  would  it  be  if,  by  his 
example,  he  made  ridiculous  his  own  laws  against 
adultery  and  indulged  himself  in  vices  which  he 
punished  in  others.  What,  then,  is  the  evidence? 
The  story  of  Nicomedes  may  be  passed  over.  All 
that  is  required  on  that  subject  has  been  already  said.  It 
was  never  heard  of  before  Caesar's  consulship,  and  the 
proofs  are  no  more  than  the  libels  of  Bibulus,  the  satire  of 
Catullus,  and  certain  letters  of  Cicero's  which  were  never 


438  JULIUS   CiESAR 

published,  but  were  circulated  privately  in  Roman  aristo- 
cratic society/  A  story  is  suspicious  which  is  first  pro- 
duced after  twenty  years  in  a  moment  of  political  excite- 
ment. Caesar  spoke  of  it  with  stern  disgust.  He  replied 
to  Catullus  with  an  invitation  to  dinner;  otherwise  he 
passed  it  over  in  silence — the  only  answer  which  an  hon- 
ourable man  could  give.  Suetonius  quotes  a  loose  song 
sung  by  Caesar's  soldiers  at  his  triumph.  We  know  in 
what  terms  British  sailors  often  speak  of  their  favourite 
commanders.  Affection,  when  it  expresses  itself  most 
emphatically,  borrows  the  language  of  its  opposites.  Who 
would  dream  of  introducing  into  a  serious  life  of  Nelson 
catches  chanted  in  the  forecastle  of  the  Victory?  But 
which  of  the  soldiers  sang  these  verses?  Does  Suetonius 
mean  that  the  army  sang  them  in  chorus  as  they  marched 
in  procession?  The  very  notion  is  preposterous.  It  is 
proved  that  during  Caesar's  lifetime  scandal  was  busy  with 
his  name;  and  that  it  would  be  so  busy,  whether  justified  or 
not,  is  certain  from  the  nature  of  things.  Cicero  says  that 
no  public  man  in  Rome  escaped  from  such  imputations. 
He  himself  flung  them  broadcast,  and  they  were  equally 
returned  upon  himself.  The  surprise  is  rather  that  Caesar's 
name  should  have  suffered  so  little,  and  that  he  should 
have  been  admitted  on  reflection  by  Suetonius  to  have 
been  comparatively  free  from  the  abominable  form  of  vice 
which  was  then  so  common. 

As  to  his  liaisons  with  women,  the  handsome,  brilliant 
Caesar,  surrounded  by  a  halo  of  military  glory,  must  have 
been  a  Paladin  of  romance  to  any  woman  who  had  a 
capacity  of  admiration  in  her.  His  own  distaste  for 
gluttony  and  hard  drinking,  and  for  the  savage  amuse- 
ments in  which  the  male  Romans  so  much  delighted,  may 
have  made  the  society  of  cultivated  ladies  more  agreeable 
to  him  than  that  of  men,  and  if  he  showed  any  such  pref- 
erence the  coarsest  interpretation  would  be  inevitably 
placed  upon  it.  These  relations,  perhaps,  in  so  loose 
an  age  assumed  occasionally  a  more  intimate  form;  but  it 
is  to  be  observed  that  the  first  public  act  recorded  of 


CESAR'S  RELATIONS  WITH  WOMEN  439 

Caesar  was  his  refusal  to  divorce  his  wife  at  Sylla's  bidding; 
that  he  was  passionately  attached  to  his  sister;  and  that 
his  mother,  Aurelia,  lived  with  him  till  she  died,  and  that 
this  mother  was  a  Roman  matron  of  the  strictest  and  se- 
verest type.  Many  names  were  mentioned  in  connection 
with  him,  yet  there  is  no  record  of  any  natural  child  save 
Brutus,  and  one  other  whose  claims  were  denied  and  dis- 
proved. 

Two  intrigues,  it  may  be  said,  are  beyond  dispute.  His 
connection  with  the  mother  of  Brutus  was  notorious. 
Cleopatra,  in  spite  of  Oppius,  was  living  with  him  in  his 
house  at  the  time  of  his  murder.  That  it  was  so  believed 
a  hundred  years  after  his  death  is,  of  course,  indisputable; 
but  in  both  these  cases  the  story  is  entangled  with  legends 
which  show  how  busily  imagination  had  been  at  work. 
Brutus  was  said  to  be  Caesar's  son,  though  Caesar  was  but 
fifteen  when  he  was  born;  and  Brutus,  though  he  had  the 
temper  of  an  Orestes,  was  devotedly  attached  to  his 
mother  in  spite  of  the  supposed  adultery,  and  professed  to 
have  loved  Caesar  when  he  offered  him  as  a  sacrifice  to  his 
country's  liberty.  Cleopatra  is  said  to  have  joined  Caesar 
at  Rome  after  his  return  from  Spain,  and  to  have  resided 
openly  with  him  as  his  mistress.  Supposing  that  she  did 
come  to  Rome,  it  is  still  certain  that  Calpurnia  was  in 
Caesar's  house  when  he  was  killed.  Cleopatra  must  have 
been  Calpurnia's  guest  as  well  as  her  husband's;  and  her 
presence,  however  commented  upon  in  society,  could  not 
possibly  have  borne  the  avowed  complexion  which  tradi- 
tion assigned  to  it.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  quite  intelligi- 
ble that  the  young  Queen  of  Egypt,  who  owed  her 
position  to  Caesar,  might  have  come,  as  other  princes  came, 
on  a  visit  of  courtesy,  and  that  Caesar  after  their  acquaint- 
ance at  Alexandria  should  have  invited  her  to  stay  with 
him.  But  was  Cleopatra  at  Rome  at  all?  The  only  real 
evidence  for  her  presence  there  is  to  be  found  in  a  few 
words  of  Cicero:  ''  Reginae  fuga  mihi  non  molesta." — "  I 
am  not  sorry  to  hear  of  the  flight  of  the  queen."  ^  There 
is  nothing  to  show  that  the  "  queen  "  was  the  Egyptian 


440  JULIUS    CESAR 

queen.  Granting  that  the  word  Egyptian  is  to  be  under- 
stood, Cicero  may  have  referred  to  Arsinoe,  who  was 
called  Queen  as  well  as  her  sister,  and  had  been  sent  to 
Rome  to  be  shown  at  Caesar's  triumph. 

But  enough  and  too  much  on  this  miserable  subject. 
Men  will  continue  to  form  their  opinions  about  it,  not 
upon  the  evidence,  but  according  to  their  preconceived 
notions  of  what  is  probable  or  improbable.  Ages  of 
progress  and  equality  are  as  credulous  of  evil  as  ages  of 
faith  are  credulous  of  good,  and  reason  will  not  modify  con- 
victions which  do  not  originate  in  reason. 

Let  us  pass  on  to. surer  ground. 

In  person  Caesar  was  tall  and  slight.  His  features  were 
more  refined  than  was  usual  in  Roman  faces;  the  forehead 
was  wide  and  high,  the  nose  large  and  thin,  the  lips  full, 
the  eyes  dark  gray  like  an  eagle's,  the  neck  extremely  thick 
and  sinewy.  His  complexion  was  pale.  His  beard  and 
moustache  were  kept  carefully  shaved.  His  hair  was  short 
and  naturally  scanty,  falling  off  towards  the  end  of  his  life 
and  leaving  him  partially  bald.  His  voice,  especially  when 
he  spoke  in  public,  was  high  and  shrill.  His  health  was 
uniformly  strong  until  his  last  year,  when  he  became  sub- 
ject to  epileptic  fits.  He  was  a  great  bather,  and  scrupu- 
lously clean  in  all  his  habits,  abstemious  in  his  food,  and 
careless  in  what  it  consisted,  rarely  or  never  touching  wine, 
and  noting  sobriety  as  the  highest  of  qualities  when  de- 
scribing any  new  people.  He  was  an  athlete  in  early  life, 
admirable  in  all  manly  exercises,  and  especially  in  riding. 
In  Gaul,  as  has  been  said  already,  he  rode  a  remarkable 
horse,  which  he  had  bred  himself,  and  which  would  let  no 
one  but  Caesar  mount  him.  From  his  boyhood  it  was  ob- 
served of  him  that  he  was  the  truest  of  friends,  that  he 
avoided  quarrels,  and  was  most  easily  appeased  when  of- 
fended. In  manner  he  was  quiet  and  gentlemanlike,  with 
the  natural  courtesy  of  high  breeding.  On  an  occasion 
when  he  was  dining  somewhere  the  other  guests  found  the 
oil  too  rancid  for  them.  Caesar  took  it  without  remark, 
to  spare  his  entertainer's  feelings.     When  on  a  journey 


CiESAR  AS  A  STATESMAN  44I 

through  a  forest  with  his  friend  Oppius,  he  came  one  night 
to  a  hut  where  there  was  a  single  bed.  Oppius  being  un- 
well, Caesar  gave  it  up  to  him,  and  slept  on  the  ground. 

In  his  public  character  he  may  be  regarded  under  three 
aspects,  as  a  politician,  a  soldier,  and  a  man  of  letters. 

Like  Cicero,  Csesar  entered  public  life  at  the  bar.  He 
belonged  by  birth  to  the  popular  party,  but  he  showed  no 
disposition,  like  the  Gracchi,  to  plunge  into  political  agita- 
tion. His  aims  were  practical.  He  made  war  only  upjqn  y* 
injustice  and  oppression;  and  when  he  commenced  a?  U  **■ 
pleader  he  was  noted  for  the  energy  with  which  he  pro- 
tected a  client  whom  he  believed  to  have  been  wronged. 
At  a  later  period,  before  he  was  praetor,  he  was  engaged  in 
defending  Masintha,  a  young  Numidian  prince,  who  had 
suffered  some  injury  from  Hiempsal,  the  father  of  Juba. 
Juba  himself  came  to  Rome  on  the  occasion,  bringing  with 
him  the  means  of  influencing  the  judges  which  Jugurtha 
had  found  so  effective.  Csesar  in  his  indignation  seized 
Juba  by  the  beard  in  the  court;  and  when  Masintha  was 
sentenced  to  some  unjust  penalty  Caesar  carried  him  off, 
concealed  him  in  his  house,  and  took  him  to  Spain  in  his 
carriage.  When  he  rose  into  the  Senate,  his  powers  as 
a  speaker  became  strikingly  remarkable.  Cicero,  who 
often  heard  him,  and  was  not  a  favourable  judge,  said  that 
there  was  a  pregnancy  in  his  sentences  and  a  dignity  in 
his  manner  which  no  orator  in  Rome  could  approach. 
But  he  never  spoke  to  court  popularity;  his  aim  from  first 
to  last  was  better  government,  the  prevention  of  bribery 
and  extortion,  and  the  distribution  among  deserving  citi- 
zens of  some  portion  of  the  public  land  which  the  rich  were 
stealing.  The  Julian  laws,  which  excited  the  indignation 
of  the  aristocracy,  had  no  other  objects  than  these;  and 
had  they  been  observed  they  would  have  saved  the  con- 
stitution. The  obstinacy  of  faction  and  the  civil  war  which 
grew  out  of  it  obliged  him  to  extend  his  horizon,  to  con- 
template more  radical  reforms — a  large  extension  of  the 
privileges  of  citizenship,  with  the  introduction  of  the 
provincial  nobility  into  the  Senate,  and  the  transfer  of  the 
29 


442  JULIUS  CiESAR 

administration  from  the  Senate  and  annually  elected  mag- 
istrates to  the  permanent  chief  of  the  army.  But  his 
objects  throughout  were  purely  practical.  The  purpose  of 
government  he  conceived  to  be  the  execution  of  justice; 
and  a  constitutional  Hberty  under  which  justice  was  made 
impossible  did  not  appear  to  him  to  be  liberty  at  all. 

The  practicality  which  showed  itself  in  his  general  aims 
appeared  also  in  his  mode  of  working.  Caesar,  it  was  ob- 
served, when  anything  was  to  be  done,  selected  the  man 
who  was  best  able  to  do  it,  not  caring  particularly  who 
or  what  he  might  be  in  other  respects.  To  this  faculty  of 
discerning  and  choosing  fit  persons  to  execute  his  orders 
may  be  ascribed  the  extraordinary  success  of  his  own  pro- 
vincial administration,  the  enthusiasm  which  was  felt  for 
him  in  the  North  of  Italy,  and  the  perfect  quiet  of  Gaul 
after  the  completion  of  the  conquest.  Caesar  did  not  crush 
the  Gauls  under  the  weight  of  Italy.  He  took  the  best  of 
them  into  the  Roman  service,  promoted  them,  led  them 
to  associate  the  interests  of  the  Empire  with  their  personal 
advancement  and  the  prosperity  of  their  own  people.  No 
act  of  Caesar's  showed  more  sagacity  than  the  introduc- 
tion of  GalHc  nobles  into  the  Senate;  none  was  more  bit- 
ter to  the  Scipios  and  Metelli,  who  were  compelled  to  share 
their  august  privileges  with  these  despised  barbarians. 

It  was  by  accident  that  Caesar  took  up  the  profession  of 
a  soldier;  yet  perhaps  no  commander  who  ever  lived 
showed  greater  military  genius.  The  conquest  of  Gaul 
was  effected  by  a  force  numerically  insignificant,  which  was 
worked  with  the  precision  of  a  machine.  The  variety  of 
uses  to  which  it  was  capable  of  being  turned  implied,  in  the 
first  place,  extraordinary  forethought  in  the  selection  of 
materials.  Men  whose  nominal  duty  was  merely  to  fight 
were  engineers,  architects,  mechanics  of  the  highest  order. 
In  a  few  hours  they  could  extemporize  an  impregnable 
fortress  on  an  open  hillside.  They  bridged  the  Rhine  in  a 
week.  They  built  a  fleet  in  a  month.  The  legions  at 
Alesia  held  twice  their  number  pinned  within  their  works, 
while  they  kept  at  bay  the  whole  force  of  insurgent  Gaul, 


CiESAR  AS  A  SOLDIER  443 

entirely  by  scientific  superiority.  The  machine,  which  was 
thus  perfect,  was  composed  of  human  beings  who  required 
suppHes  of  tools,  and  arms,  and  clothes,  and  food,  and  shel- 
ter, and  for  all  these  it  depended  on  the  forethought  of 
its  commander.  Maps  there  were  none.  Countries  en- 
tirely unknown  had  to  be  surveyed;  routes  had  to  be  laid 
out;  the  depths  and  courses  of  rivers,  the  character  of 
mountain  passes,  had  all  to  be  ascertained.  Allies  had  to 
be  found  among  tribes  as  yet  unheard  of.  Countless  con- 
tingent difficulties  had  to  be  provided  for,  many  of  which 
must  necessarily  arise,  though  the  exact  nature  of  them 
could  not  be  anticipated.  When  room  for  accidents  is  left 
open,  accidents  do  not  fail  to  be  heard  of.  But  Caesar  was 
never  defeated  when  personally  present,  save  once  at  Ger- 
govia,  and  once  at  Durazzo;  and  the  failure  at  Gergovia 
was  caused  by  the  revolt  of  the  ^dui;  and  the  manner  in 
which  the  failure  at  Durazzo  was  retrieved  showed  Caesar's 
greatness  more  than  the  most  brilliant  of  his  victories.  He 
was  rash,  but  with  a  calculated  rashness,  which  the  event 
never  failed  to  justify.  His  greatest  successes  were  due 
to  the  rapidity  of  his  movements,  which  brought  him  on 
the  enemy  before  they  heard  of  his  approach.  He  trav- 
elled sometimes  a  hundred  miles  a  day,  reading  or  writing 
in  his  carriage,  through  countries  without  roads,  and  cross- 
ing rivers  without  bridges.  No  obstacles  stopped  him 
when  he  had  a  definite  end  in  view.  In  battle  he  some- 
times rode;  but  he  was  more  often  on  foot,  bareheaded,  and 
in  a  conspicuous  dress,  that  he  might  be  seen  and  recog- 
nized. Again  and  again  by  his  own  efforts  he  recovered 
a  day  that  was  half  lost.  He  once  seized  a  panic-stricken 
standard-bearer,  turned  him  round,  and  told  him  that  he 
had  mistaken  the  direction  of  the  enemy.  He  never  mis- 
led his  army  as  to  an  enemy's  strength,  or  if  he  misstated 
their  numbers  it  was  only  to  exaggerate.  In  Africa,  be- 
fore Thapsus,  when  his  officers  were  nervous  at  the  re- 
ported approach  of  Juba,  he  called  them  together  and  said 
briefly,  ''  You  will  understand  that  within  a  day  King  Juba 
will  be  here  with  ten  legions,  thirty  thousand  horse,  a  hun- 


444  JULIUS  C^SAR 

dred  thousand  skirmishers,  and  three  hundred  elephants. 
You  are  not  to  think  or  ask  questions.  I  tell  you  the 
truth,  and  you  must  prepare  for  it.  If  any  of  you  are 
alarmed  I  shall  send  you  home." 

Yet  he  was  singularly  careful  of  his  soldiers.  He  al- 
lowed his  legions  rest,  though  he  allowed  none  to  him- 
self. He  rarely  fought  a  battle  at  a  disadvantage.  He 
never  exposed  his  men  to  unnecessary  danger,  and  the 
loss  by  wear  and  tear  in  the  campaigns  in  Gaul  was  ex- 
ceptionally and  even  astonishingly  sUght.  When  a  gal- 
lant action  was  performed,  he  knew  by  whom  it  had  been 
done,  and  every  soldier,  however  humble,  might  feel  as- 
sured that  if  he  deserved  praise  he  would  have  it.     The 

\^rmy  was  Caesar's  family.  When  Sabinus  was  cut  off,  he 
allowed  his  beard  to  grow,  and  he  did  not  shave  it  till  the 
disaster  was  avenged.  If  Quintus  Cicero  had  been  his  own 
child,  he  could  not  have  run  greater  personal  risk  to  save 
him  when  shut  up  at  Charleroy.  In  discipline  he  was  leni- 
ent to  ordinary  faults,  and  not  careful  to  make  curious  in- 
quiries into  such  things.  He  liked  his  men  to  enjoy  them- 
selves. Military  mistakes  in  his  officers  too  he  always  en- 
deavoured to  excuse,  never  blaming  them  for  misfortunes, 

1  unless  there  had  been  a  defect  of  courage  as  well  as  judg- 
ment. Mutiny  and  desertion  only  he  never  overlooked. 
And  thus  no  general  was  ever  more  loved  by,  or  had 
greater  power  over,  the  army  which  served  under  him. 
He  brought  the  insurgent  Tenth  Legion  into  submission 
by  a  single  word.  When  the  Civil  War  began  and  La- 
bienus  left  ,him,  he  told  all  his  officers  who  had  served 
under  Pompey  that  they  were  free  to  follow  if  they  wished. 
Not  another  man  forsook  him. 

Suetonius  says  that  he  was  rapacious,  that  he  plundered 
tribes  in  Spain  who  were  allies  of  Rome,  that  he  pillaged 
shrines  and  temples  in  Gaul,  and  destroyed  cities  merely 
for  spoil.  He  adds  a  story  which  Cicero  would  not  have 
left  untold  and  uncommented  on  if  he  had  been  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  hear  of  it:  that  Caesar  when  first  consul  took  three 
thousand  pounds  weight  of  gold  out  of  the  Capitol  and  re- 


CiESAR  AS  A  SOLDIER  445 

placed  it  with  gilded  brass.  A  similar  story  is  told  of  the 
Cid  and  of  other  heroes  of  fiction.  How  came  Cicero  to 
be  ignorant  of  an  act  which,  if  done  at  all,  was  done  under 
his  own  eyes?  When  praetor  Caesar  brought  back  money 
from  Spain  to  the  treasury;  but  he  was  never  charged  at 
the  time  with  peculation  or  oppression  there.  In  Gaul 
the  war  paid  its  own  expenses;  but  what  temples  were 
there  in  Gaul  which  were  worth  spoiling?  Of  temples  he 
was,  indeed,  scrupulously  careful.  Varro  had  taken  gold 
from  the  Temple  of  Hercules  at  Cadiz.  Caesar  replaced  it. 
Metellus  Scipio  had  threatened  to  plunder  the  Temple  of 
Diana  at  Ephesus.  Caesar  protected  it.  In  Gaul  the 
Druids  were  his  best  friends;  therefore  he  certainly  had  not 
outraged  religion  there;  and  the  quiet  of  the  province  dur- 
ing the  Civil  War  is  a  sufficient  answer  to  the  accusation  of 
gratuitous  oppression. 

The  Gauls  paid  the  expenses  of  their  conquest  in  the 
prisoners  taken  in  battle,  who  were  sold  to  the  slave  mer- 
chants; and  this  is  the  real  blot  on  Caesar's  career.  But 
the  blot  was  not  personally  upon  Caesar,  but  upon  the  age 
in  which  he  lived.  The  great  Pomponius  Atticus  him- 
self was  a  dealer  in  human  chattels.  That  prisoners  of 
war  should  be  sold  as  slaves  was  the  law  of  the  time,  ac- 
cepted alike  by  victors  and  vanquished;  and  the  crowds  of 
libertini  who  assisted  at  Caesar's  funeral  proved  that  he 
was  not  regarded  as  the  enemy  of  these  unfortunates,  but 
as  their  special  friend. 

His  leniency  to  the  Pompeian  faction  has  already  been 
spoken  of  sufficiently.     It  may  have  been  politic,  but  it . 
arose   also   from   the   disposition    of   the    man.     Cruelty  .  , 
originates  in  fear,  and  Caesar  was  too  indififerent  to  death . .  y 
to  fear  anything.     So  far  as  his  public  action  was  con-  - 
cerned,  he  betrayed  no  passion  save  hatred  of  injustice; ' 
and  he  moved  through  life  calm  and  irresistible,  like  a 
force  of  nature. 

Cicero  has  said  of  Caesar's  oratory  that  he  surpassed 
those  who  had  practised  no  other  art.  His  praise  of  him 
as  a  man  of  letters  is  yet  more  delicately  and  gracefully 


44^  JULIUS  C^SAR 

emphatic.  Most  of  his  writings  are  lost,  but  there  remain 
seven  books  of  commentaries  on  the  wars  in  Gaul  (the 
eighth  was  added  by  another  hand),  and  three  books  upon 
the  Civil  War,  containing  an  account  of  its  causes  and 
history.  Of  these  it  was  that  Cicero  said,  in  an  admirable 
image,  that  fools  might  think  to  improve  on  them,  but 
that  no  wise  man  would  try  it;  they  were  nudi  omni  ornatu 
\  orationis,  tanquam  veste  detracta — bare  of  ornament,  the 
dress  of  style  dispensed  with,  like  an  undraped  human  fig- 
ure perfect  in  all  its  lines  as  nature  made  it.  In  his  com- 
position, as  in  his  actions,  Caesar  is  entirely  simple.  He 
indulges  in  no  images,  no  laboured  descriptions,  no  con- 
ventional reflections.  His  art  is  unconscious,  as  the  high- 
est art  always  is.  The  actual  fact  of  things  stands  out  as 
it  really  was,  not  as  mechanically  photographed,  but  in- 
terpreted by  the  calmest  intelligence,  and  described  with 
unexaggerated  feeling.  No  military  narative  has  ap- 
proached the  excellence  of  the  history  of  the  war  in  Gaul. 
Nothing  is  written  down  which  could  be  dispensed  with; 
nothing  important  is  left  untold ;  while  the  incidents  them- 
selves are  set  ofif  by  delicate  and  just  observations  on  hu- 
man character.  The  story  is  rendered  attractive  by  com- 
plimentary anecdotes  of  persons;  while  details  of  the  char- 
acter and  customs  of  an  unknown  and  remarkable  people 
show  the  attention  which  Caesar  was  always  at  leisure  to 
bestow  on  anything  which  was  worthy  of  interest,  even 
when  he  was  surrounded  with  danger  and  difficulty.  The 
books  on  the  Civil  War  have  the  same  simplicity  and  clear- 
ness, but  a  vein  runs  through  them  of  strong  if  subdued 
emotion.  They  contain  the  history  of  a  great  revolution 
related  by  the  principal  actor  in  it;  but  no  effort  can  be 
traced  to  set  his  own  side  in  a  favourable  light,  or  to 
abuse  or  depreciate  his  adversaries.  The  coarse  invectives 
which  Cicero  poured  so  freely  upon  those  who  differed 
from  him  are  conspicuously  absent.  Caesar  does  not  ex- 
ult over  his  triumphs  or  parade  the  honesty  of  his  mo- 
tives. The  facts  are  left  to  tell  their  own  story;  and  the 
gallantry  and  endurance  of  his  own  troops  are  not  related 


CiESAR  AS  A   MAN  OF  LETTERS  447 

with  more  feeling  than  the  contrast  between  the  confident 
hopes  of  the  patrician  leaders  at  Pharsalia  and  the  luxury 
of  their  camp  with  the  overwhelming  disaster  which  fell 
upon  them.  About  himself  and  his  own  exploits  there  is 
not  one  word  of  self-complacency  or  self-admiration.  In 
his  writings,  as  in  his  life,  Caesar  is  always  the  same — di- 
rect, straightforward,  unmoved  save  by  occasional  tender- 
ness, describing  with  unconscious  simplicity  how  the  work 
which  had  been  forced  upon  him  was  accomplished.  He 
wrote  with  extreme  rapidity  in  the  intervals  of  other  la- 
bour; yet  there  is  not  a  word  misplaced,  not  a  sign  of  haste 
anywhere,  save  that  the  conclusion  of  the  Gallic  war  was 
left  to  be  supplied  by  a  weaker  hand.  The  commen- 
taries, as  an  historical  narrative,  are  as  far  superior  to 
any  other  Latin  composition  of  the  kind  as  the  person 
of  Caesar  himself  stands  out  among  the  rest  of  his 
contemporaries. 

His  other  compositions  have  perished,  in  consequence, 
perhaps,  of  the  unforgiving  republican  sentiment  which  re- 
vived among  men  of  letters  after  the  death  of  Augustus — 
which  rose  to  a  height  in  the  "  Pharsalia  "  of  Lucan — and 
which  leaves  so  visible  a  mark  in  the  writings  of  Tacitus 
and  Suetonius.  There  was  a  book,  "  De  Analogia,"  writ- 
ten by  Caesar  after  the  conference  at  Lucca,  during  the  pas- 
sage of  the  Alps.  There  was  a  book  on  the  auspices, 
which,  coming  from  the  head  of  the  Roman  religion,  would 
have  thrown  a  light  much  to  be  desired  on  this  curious 
subject.  In  practice  Caesar  treated  the  auguries  with  con- 
tempt. He  carried  his  laws  in  open  disregard  of  them. 
He  fought  his  battles  careless  whether  the  sacred  chickens 
would  eat  or  the  calves'  livers  were  of  the  proper  colour. 
His  own  account  of  such  things  in  his  capacity  of  Ponti- 
fex  would  have  had  a  singular  interest. 

From  the  time  of  his  boyhood  he  kept  a  commonplace 
book,  in  which  he  entered  down  any  valuable  or  witty  say- 
ings, inquiring  carefully,  as  Cicero  takes  pains  to  tell  us, 
after  any  smart  observation  of  his  own.  Niebuhr  remarks 
that  no  pointed  sentences  of  Caesar's  can  have  come  down 


448  JULIUS  C^SAR 

to  us.  Perhaps  he  had  no  gift  that  way,  and  admired  in 
others  what  he  did  not  possess. 

He  left  in  verse  ''  an  account  of  the  stars  " — some  prac- 
tical almanac,  probably,  in  a  shape  to  be  easily  remem- 
bered; and  there  was  a  journal  in  verse  also,  written  on  the 
return  from  Munda.  Of  all  the  lost  writings,  however, 
the  most  to  be  regretted  is  the  "  Anti-Cato."  After  Cato's 
death  Cicero  published  a  panegyric  upon  him.  To  praise 
Cato  was  to  condemn  Caesar;  and  Caesar  replied  with  a 
sketch  of  the  Martyr  of  Utica  as  he  had  himself  known  him. 
The  pamphlet,  had  it  survived,  would  have  shown  how  far 
Caesar  was  able  to  extend  the  forbearance  so  conspicuous 
in  his  other  writings  to  the  most  respectable  and  the  most 
inveterate  of  his  enemies.  The  verdict  of  fact  and  the  ver- 
dict of  literature  on  the  great  controversy  between  them 
have  been  summed  up  in  the  memorable  line  of  Lucan — 

"  Victrix  causa  Deis  placuit,  sed  victa  Catoni." 

Was  Cato  right,  or  were  the  gods  right?  Perhaps  both. 
There  is  a  legend  that  at  the  death  of  Charles  V  the  ac- 
cusing angel  appeared  in  heaven  with  a  catalogue  of  deeds 
which  no  advocate  could  palliate — countries  laid  desolate, 
cities  sacked  and  burnt,  lists  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
widows  and  children  brought  to  misery  by  the  political 
ambition  of  a  single  man.  The  evil  spirit  demanded  the 
ofTender's  soul,  and  it  seemed  as  if  mercy  itself  could  not 
refuse  him  the  award.  But  at  the  last  moment  the  Su- 
preme Judge  interfered.  The  Emperor,  He  said,  had  been 
sent  into  the  world  at  a  peculiar  time,  for  a  peculiar  pur- 
pose, and  was  not  to  be  tried  by  the  ordinary  rules.  Ti- 
tian has  painted  the  scene:  Charles  kneeling  before  the 
Throne,  with  the  consciousness,  as  became  him,  of  human 
infirmities,  written  upon  his  countenance,  yet  neither 
afraid  nor  abject,  relying  in  absolute  faith  that  the  Judge 
of  all  mankind  would  do  right. 

Of  Caesar  too  it  may  be  said  that  he  came  into  the  world 
at  a  special  time  and  for  a  special  object.  The  old  religions 
were  dead,  from  the  Pillars  of  Hercules  to  the  Euphrates 


HOW   CESAR   SHOULD   BE   ESTIMATED  449 

and  the  Nile,  and  the  principles  on  which  human  society 
had  been  constructed  were  dead  also.  There  remained  of 
spiritual  conviction  only  the  common  and  human  sense  of 
justice  and  morality;  and  out  of  this  sense  some  ordered 
system  of  government  had  to  be  constructed,  under  which 
quiet  men  could  live  and  labour  and  eat  the  fruit  of  their 
industry.  Under  a  rule  of  this  material  kind  there  can  be 
no  enthusiasm,  no  chivalry,  no  saintly  aspirations, 
no  patriotism  of  the  heroic  type.  It  was  not  to  last  for- 
ever. A  new  life  was  about  to  dawn  for  mankind.  Po- 
etry, and  faith,  and  devotion  were  to  spring  again  out  of 
the  seeds  which  were  sleeping  in  the  heart  of  humanity. 
But  the  life  which  is  to  endure  grows  slowly;  and  as  the 
soil  must  be  prepared  before  the  wheat  can  be  sown,  so  be- 
fore the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  could  throw  up  its  shoots 
there  was  needed  a  kingdom  of  this  world  where  the  na- 
tions were  neither  torn  in  pieces  by  violence  nor  were  rush- 
ing after  false  ideals  and  spurious  ambitions.  Such  a  king- 
dom was  the  Empire  of  the  Caesars — a  kingdom  where 
peaceful  men  could  work,  think,  and  speak  as  they  pleased, 
and  travel  freely  among  provinces  ruled  for  the  most  part 
by  Gallios  who  protected  life  and  property,  and  forbade 
fanatics  to  tear  each  other  in  pieces  for  their  religious  opin- 
ions. "  It  is  not  lawful  for  us  to  put  any  man  to  death,'* 
was  the  complaint  of  the  Jewish  priests  to  the  Roman  gov- 
ernor. Had  Europe  and  Asia  been  covered  with  inde- 
pendent nations,  each  with  a  local  religion  represented  in 
its  ruling  powers,  Christianity  must  have  been  stifled  in  its 
cradle.  If  St.  Paul  had  escaped  the  Sanhedrim  at  Jeru- 
salem, he  would  have  been  torn  to  pieces  by  the  silver- 
smiths at  Ephesus.  The  appeal  to  Caesar's  judgment- 
seat  was  the  shield  of  his  mission,  and  alone  made  possible 
his  success. 

And  this  spirit,  which  confined  government  to  its  sim- 
plest duties,  while  it  left  opinion  unfettered,  was  especially 
present  in  Julius  Caesar  himself.  From  cant  of  all  kinds 
he  was  totally  free.  He  was  a  friend  of  the  people,  but 
he  indulged  in  no  enthusiasm  for  liberty.     He  never  di- 


450  JULIUS   CiESAR 

lated  on  the  beauties  of  virtue,  or  complimented,  as  Cicero 
did,  a  Providence  in  which  he  did  not  beUeve.  He  was  too 
sincere  to  stoop  to  unreality.  He  held  to  the  facts  of  this 
life  and  to  his  own  convictions;  and  as  he  found  no  reason 
for  supposing  that  there  was  a  life  beyond  the  grave  he  did 
did  not  pretend  to  expect  it.  He  respected  the  religion 
of  the  Roman  State  as  an  institution  established  by  the 
laws.  He  encouraged  or  left  unmolested  the  creeds  and 
practices  of  the  uncounted  sects  or  tribes  who  were  gath- 
ered under  the  eagles.  But  his  own  writings  contain  noth- 
ing to  indicate  that  he  himself  had  any  religious  belief  at 
all.  He  saw  no  evidence  that  the  gods  practically  inter- 
fered in  human  affairs.  He  never  pretended  that  Jupiter 
was  on  his  side.  He  thanked  his  soldiers  after  a  victory, 
but  he  did  not  order  Te  Deums  to  be  sung  for  it;  and  in  the 
absence  of  these  conventionalisms  he  perhaps  showed  more 
real  reverence  than  he  could  have  displayed  by  the  freest 
use  of  the  formulas  of  pietism. 

He  fought  his  battles  to  establish  some  tolerable  degree 
of  justice  in  the  government  of  this  world;  and  he  suc- 
ceeded, though  he  was  murdered  for  doing  it. 

Strange  and  startling  resemblance  between  the  fate  of 
the  founder  of  the  kingdom  of  this  world  and  of  the 
Founder  of  the  kingdom  not  of  this  world,  for  which  the 
first  was  a  preparation.  Each  was  denounced  for  mak- 
ing himself  a  king.  Each  was  maligned  as  the  friend  of 
publicans  and  sinners;  each  was  betrayed  by  those  whom 
he  had  loved  and  cared  for;  each  was  put  to  death;  and 
Caesar  also  was  believed  to  have  risen  again  and  ascended 
into  heaven  and  become  a  divine  being. 

Notes 

*  Page  438.  Suetonius,  Julius  Caesar,  49. 
'  Page  439.  To  Atticus,  xiv.  8. 

(1) 

THE  END 


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